


Gravity Rises: Alluring Illusion [Episode Five]

by BrightnessWings19



Series: Gravity Rises: Season Three [7]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Gravity Rises (Gravity Falls), Episode Five, Family, Fantasy, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mystery, Paranormal, Season/Series 03, Weirdmageddon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightnessWings19/pseuds/BrightnessWings19
Summary: Gideon has to save Mabel before it's too late. But she doesn't know she needs saving.
Series: Gravity Rises: Season Three [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1319543
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: Chapters six and seven contain semi-graphic descriptions of child abuse and its effects. Chapters ten through twelve contain references to the aforementioned topics.

**JANUARY 13, 2013**

The alarm went off. Everly Grace Prewitt rolled over with a moan and silenced the device with the press of a button.

“All right, Grace,” she muttered to herself. “Another day, another random body pain. Here we go.”

Grace sat up, wincing at the pain in her abdomen. This pregnancy was admittedly easier than her first two, it was true, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful in its own right. The baby inside of her was growing, and she felt the pain that accompanied that growth.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, then put a gentle hand on her stomach. “Good morning, baby girl,” she said softly to her pregnant belly. Grace was eighteen weeks pregnant, and she’d had the ultrasound last week that told her that the baby was a girl. There wasn’t much of a baby bump yet — Grace could easily hide it with flowy tops — but there would be soon. She needed to dig out her maternity clothes and hope they still fit her.

But not right now. Right now, she needed to make breakfast for her two boys. She got dressed, then glanced sadly at the empty bed. Her husband, Edward, was away on a business trip, and she’d slept alone in the king-sized bed for the last few nights. She missed him, like she always did when he had to go out of town. But he’d be home in just a few hours, so she could make it until then.

Grace padded out to the kitchen and started making eggs and toast. Her boys were picky, as many young children were; but eggs and toast, to their parents’ relief, was one meal they’d always eat. It was simple fare, for the boys would turn their noses up at anything fancier. Grace liked to experiment with more complicated meals, but for now that was saved for date nights when she and Edward sent the boys to a babysitter’s house and then cooked dinner together.

Maybe they could do that soon.

Grace soon heard a soft whining from the living room. She ignored it until she had finished making breakfast, which didn’t take long. Then she followed the sound to where Edward’s big grey dog lay in his giant dog kennel. “Good morning, Duke,” she said. The dog wagged his tail and whined, asking to be let out. “All right, let’s get you breakfast, how about that?”

She went and filled Duke’s food and water bowls, then returned to let the dog out of his kennel. Duke stretched, then came out and gently butted Grace’s chest with his head. Given his size, Duke could easily trample Grace if he wanted to. But the old Great Dane would never harm a fly.

Grace ruffled his ears. “Good morning to you, too. Your food is in the kitchen.” She followed him in and made sure the humans’ food was safely out of the way of the huge dog.

Duke started eating his food, and Grace went to go wake her boys. She climbed the stairs to their room and opened the blinds. “Good morning, Curtis,” she said. “Good morning, Jojo.”

Curtis and Joseph Prewitt opened their eyes. Four-year-old Curtis immediately sat up. “Are we going to the zoo today, Mommy?”

Grace smiled. Curtis loved the Oakland zoo. But they weren’t going today, not least because it was cloudy outside and would likely rain soon. “No, we’re not going to the zoo today,” she told Curtis, giving him a hug. “Today, we’re going to welcome Daddy home from his trip.”

“Daddy’s home!” Curtis said excitedly. He climbed out of bed.

“He’s not home yet, but he will be soon,” Grace said. She turned to two-year-old Joseph and helped him out of bed. He was a quiet, smiley boy, and he smiled one of his sleepy morning smiles at Grace. She hugged him, then helped him get dressed as Curtis dressed himself on the other side of the room.

Once the boys were dressed, Grace sent them down to breakfast. She glanced out the window again and sighed. The rain in Oakland, California seemed so dreary sometimes. It never snowed, either. Summers here were nice, but Grace didn’t like the winter climate much at all. She didn’t specifically remember a time when she had been in snow, but she somehow knew she liked it. She wished it would snow here at least sometimes.

She shook her head — no time to have a pity party. She went down the stairs and served the boys their breakfast, cutting their toast into small pieces. Duke put his big grey head on Grace’s knee, as if begging for more food, but she just laughed and gently pushed him away. “You’ve already had your breakfast, buddy,” she told him.

He huffed at her. “Yeah, I know, I’m so mean,” she teased.

“Duke can’t have human food, huh Mommy?” said Curtis.

“That’s right. It makes him sick.”

“That’s bad, Duke,” Curtis told the dog. “Getting sick is bad. If you’re sick, you can’t play with us.”

Grace enjoyed her breakfast, but her boys were particularly slow to eat this morning. Joseph wouldn’t eat any bite that wasn’t delivered to him by a pretend airplane, and Curtis kept getting distracted by talking about how excited he was for Daddy to get home. Grace was excited, too, but Curtis still had to eat his breakfast!

The boys were almost done with their food when Grace heard the lock turn in the front room. Curtis heard it, too. “Daddy!” he cried, abandoning his last few bites of eggs.

Grace got to her feet. Was Edward home already? He wasn’t supposed to be here for another two hours. She picked up Joseph and hurried to the front door, close on Curtis’s heels.

“Well, hello, Mr. Monkey!” Edward put down his briefcase and lifted Curtis into his arms. “I’ve missed you!”

“Daddy! We’re going to the zoo today!”

“No, Monkey, we’re not going to the zoo today,” Grace reminded him. She and Edward both put their sons down on the floor. Edward gave his wife a hug and bent down to kiss her. She leaned into the kiss, then pulled back with a look of happy surprise. “Hi, Eddy,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you back for a few more hours.”

“I was able to leave early,” Edward said. “I’m feeling pretty tired, but I wanted to get home to you.”

“I’m glad to have you home,” Grace said, planting another kiss on his cheek. “There should be some breakfast left for you if you want it.”

“Sure,” Edward said with a smile. “How’s our baby girl? Has she been moving around a lot since I left?”

“A bit,” Grace said. “I’ve been reading to her, like the doctor suggested, but I think she’d love to hear you read to her tonight.” At this point in the pregnancy, the baby could hear, and Edward enjoyed reading aloud.

“That sounds wonderful,” Edward said. With that, he went to go get some breakfast.

The family went back to the dining room, passing the living room on the way. Duke, who was lying on the couch after being cruelly denied Grace’s breakfast, wagged his tail enthusiastically and gave a happy whine when he saw Edward. When Grace and Edward were first married, the dog would’ve jumped up and knocked Edward over with excitement. But in his old age, Duke was perfectly happy to show his excitement without expending too much energy.

“Hi, Duke,” Edward said to the dog, stopping to pet him. “I’ll come sit with you in a minute.”

They made it to the kitchen. The whole way there, Curtis chattered excitedly, while Joseph toddled along beside his dad. Grace made Edward a plate of food, then wrestled the boys back into their seats and sat down herself, though she’d already finished her breakfast. With Edward there to help, the boys finished eating (most of) their helpings, and soon Grace got started on the dishes while Edward ate and talked to the boys.

Grace was almost done with the dishes by the time Edward finished his food. He rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher with the others. “Definitely better than the eggs at the hotel,” he said to Grace.

“Oh, good,” Grace said. “I’m glad you have at least one reason to come back home.”

Her tone and smile said that she was obviously teasing, but Edward took the opportunity to put his arm around her waist and pull her close. “I have a lot more reasons to come home,” he said seriously.

“Mm, I know.”

“Daddy! Come see the Lego house I built yesterday!”

“Jojo help!” added Joseph.

“Go see the boys’ house and snuggle with the dog,” Grace said.

“Oh, if I must,” Edward said. He followed Curtis to the living room.

Grace finished up the last of the dishes before joining them. Edward sat on the couch with Duke’s head resting on his legs, scratching the dog absently while Curtis talked about his Lego house. Edward looked tired but happy as he relaxed with his sons and his dog. Grace smiled at him, and he smiled back. His work schedule was all sorts of crazy sometimes, but at least he could still spend time with his family.

“I’m going to add another level,” Curtis proclaimed, looking as if he’d had the most ingenious idea in the world. “Joseph, don’t get in my way.”

“Hey now, Curtis, don’t talk to your brother that way,” Edward said. “He can help.”

Curtis got to work on the second level of his structure, building with pieces of all shapes and colors to create an amalgamation of plastic blocks that somewhat resembled a house. Joseph helped by putting random pieces in random places, and Curtis only _sometimes_ got upset at his little brother. Grace tried to keep the peace between them while Edward sat with Duke on the couch.

After a few minutes, Grace heard the tinny sound of phone speakers. “The unimaginable story of the last twenty-four hours is gaining more and more attention as experts consult on what could possibly have caused. . .”

Curtis and Joseph looked up immediately at the sound of a technological device. “Eddy, could you put in headphones?” Grace asked. She didn’t want to hear the news, and she didn’t want her boys to crowd around Edward’s phone like moths drawn to a porch light.

He looked up. “Hmm? Oh, right. Sorry.” He glanced down at the heavy dog on his lap. “Um, could you get them for me?”

Grace tried not to sigh. Wearing headphones was common courtesy, in her opinion, but Edward often forgot her preference. He was courteous about it when she reminded him, though, so she tried not to get annoyed. “Are they in your briefcase?” she asked. Edward nodded, and she got them for him.

“Thanks,” he said. He moved to put them in the headphone jack.

“The small town of Gravity Rises, Oregon, is one that few people knew about. But now—”

“Wait,” Grace said.

Edward paused. “Yes?”

“Leave those out,” Grace said. “I. . . I want to hear this story.”

She wasn’t sure why she’d said it, but Edward raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and left the headphones out. Grace sat down beside him on the couch and stared at the screen, fully aware that _she_ was the one acting like a moth drawn to a porch light.

“Bus driver Jesús Ribera happened upon this strange crater yesterday morning. Both the town and a large amount of the forest have completely disappeared. Ribera told our reporters that the last time he had seen Gravity Rises was on January second. Anything could’ve happened since then to cause this disappearance.” As the reporter spoke, the news channel showed pictures of a big, empty crater surrounded by trees.

Grace gasped.

“I know, it’s insane,” Edward said. “No one knows—” He stopped as Grace waved a hand to quiet him.

“Gravity Rises is perhaps best known as the hometown of CEO Gaston Northwest. Any attempt to reach Mr. Northwest through phone call or email has been completely unsuccessful. Employees at his business claim that the last time they heard from him was on the morning of January fifth.”

A picture of Gaston came onto the screen, and the reporter talked more about him. Grace gasped again, putting a hand to her head. “Grace? You okay?” Edward asked in concern.

“That man,” Grace whispered. “I know that man.”

“Gaston Northwest? Yeah, he does business with my dad sometimes. You probably heard—”

“No, I know—” Grace stopped talking abruptly and waved her hand for silence again.

The picture of Gaston disappeared, and the news broadcast continued. “Experts are baffled, but teams of scientists are already on the ground at the crater to run tests and build theories on how the town and the forest could’ve disappeared. Joining us this morning is a seismologist who will discuss—”

“Turn it off,” Grace said.

Edward looked confused, but he did as she asked. He put a hand on hers. “Grace, honey, are you okay?”

“No.” Grace got to her feet. She suddenly felt very confused. “I. . .” She glanced back at the couch. Curtis and Joseph had climbed onto the couch and leaned against Duke to see the phone screen, and now they looked up at their mother in confusion.

Edward pushed Duke’s head off his lap and stood. “What is it? Do you want to go lie down?” he asked Grace.

“Maybe I should,” Grace said. “Can you — can you watch—”

“I’ll watch the boys for a minute,” Edward said. “You go lie down.”

Grace went to her room. She didn’t stumble, but she felt unsteady on her feet. What was going on? Why had that news broadcast had such an intense effect on her? Why did she recognize the name Gravity Rises? Who was Gaston Northwest, and why did she get so — so horrified and angry when she saw him?

She lay down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her mind raced, but she couldn’t follow the threads of her harried thoughts. So many confusing ideas and images flashed through her head. Stone rooms with firelit lanterns, fancy rooms with large windows, people in purple robes, pine trees and snow. . .

Grace closed her eyes and tried to sort through her thoughts.

~~~~~

Edward walked quietly down the hallway and tapped on the door to his bedroom. “Grace?” he called softly.

There was silence for a moment. He wondered if she was asleep. Then, “Come in,” said a quiet voice.

Edward opened the door. It had been almost an hour since Grace had come in here to rest. Edward had wanted to rest himself — he’d been up most of the night driving — but, well, when your wife was pregnant, you had to make some sacrifices. He assumed that her intense reaction to that news broadcast was partly related to increased hormones from her pregnancy.

Grace was lying on her side on the bed, turned away from Edward. “How are you doing?” he asked, coming over to sit on the other side of the bed.

Grace rolled onto her back and looked up at him. Instead of answering his question, she asked, “How are the boys?”

“I took them over to Becky’s house,” Edward said. Becky was their favorite babysitter; she lived just a few minutes away. “I thought you could use the quiet.”

“Okay,” Grace said.

“Are you feeling better?”

She just stared at him for a moment. “Grace?” he repeated.

Another moment passed. Then, “Eddy,” she said slowly, “what do you remember about when we were married?”

Edward frowned. Where did that come from? He lay down beside her on the bed and offered his arm, which she rested her head on. “Well,” he said, not sure what she was looking for, “I remember being scared. I was. . . I was angry at my parents for choosing my wife for me. And I can’t say that I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. But. . . then we talked on our honeymoon about how we wanted to make things work. How we wanted to do our best in the circumstances. And we did.” He pulled her closer to him. “I can say now that I love you,” he said softly.

“Me too,” she whispered. “But. . . but did you know. . .” She paused. “Did they tell you anything about my family? Where I came from? Any of that?”

“No,” Edward said. “They just said you were the daughter of a rich businessman my dad knew, and that when you married me, you’d be part of the Prewitt family. I didn’t know anything about you except that your name was Everly Grace. Why?”

She didn’t answer at first. “Because. . .” She took a deep, slow breath. “Gaston Northwest,” she said. “He’s my father.”

Edward’s eyes widened. “He is?” No wonder she’d had such a strong reaction when she learned about his disappearance.

“Yes, but. . . but I forgot that.” She rolled onto her side and tried to look into Edward’s eyes. Edward carefully pulled his arm out from under her head and rolled onto his side to face her. Grace looked intently at him. “I forgot all of it,” she said. “My father, the town I grew up in, everything.”

Edward blinked. “Really? How much do you remember now?”

“Most of it, I think,” she said. “Since I came in here, I’ve just been. . . thinking. And the more I think, the more I remember.”

“How did you forget about it in the first place?” Edward asked.

She hesitated. “This is where I’m going to sound crazy,” she said.

“I’m listening.”

“Okay.” She took another deep breath. “Gravity Rises is a magical town. The forest around it is filled with magical creatures, and there’s. . . there’s a group that wipes people’s memories of the magic so they won’t find the creatures. There’s a stone. A magical amulet. It wipes the memories. And when I was a teenager, I. . . I was the one who used the amulet. I wiped people’s memories.”

Edward wasn’t sure how to process this information, but he didn’t say anything. He listened silently.

“When I turned eighteen, the. . . the amulet stopped working for me. I have a little brother, and he started using the amulet. They sent me off to marry you not long after that. I think. . .” She closed her eyes, and Edward watched a few tears slip between her eyelids. “I think they forced him to wipe my memory before I left. The. . . the amulet doesn’t permanently get rid of the memories, and it’s possible to remember them with a trigger. That news broadcast triggered my memories.”

Edward gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. “That’s. . . that’s a lot to take in,” he said.

“I know. It’s. . . it’s really confusing.”

“I bet,” he whispered. “So you think you forgot your family because your little brother hid your memories?”

“My father would’ve forced him to,” Grace said. “I. . . I don’t remember it actually happening, but that’s the only explanation I can think of.” Her face was pained, and more tears replaced the ones Edward had wiped away. “I forgot him, Eddy. I came here, I married you, and I completely forgot my brother and everything else.”

“I’m sorry.” He moved closer and put his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”

“My brother needs me,” Grace said. “He’s in. . . he’s in a bad situation. They treat him terribly. Before I left, I promised him I’d come back and help, but I. . . I failed. Six years, and I haven’t even _thought_ about him, much less tried to help him.”

“Because they made him wipe your memory, right?” Edward said. “It’s not your fault. And if he was the one who did it, he’d know that.”

Rather than take comfort in this, Grace gave a little sob. “It must’ve been so traumatizing for him,” she whispered. “He wouldn’t have wanted to do it.”

“Of course not.”

“I. . . I have to go to him.”

Edward was quiet for a moment. “How?” he finally asked.

The word floated in the air above them.

“I don’t know,” Grace said. “But I — I have to. I have to go to Oregon and do whatever I can to help bring him back.”

“Where do you think he is? Did something magical happen to the town?”

“I have no idea what happened,” she said. “Something magical, definitely. But I don’t know. Unless—”

“Unless what?”

“Unless the group — the Order of the Crescent Eye, the group that forced me to wipe memories for them — unless they did something to help—”

She stopped, her eyes widening.

“Help who?”

“Bill Cipher,” she whispered, sounding like she was remembering this even as she said it out loud. “He’s a demon. A demon the Order worships. He’s trapped in the town. If the Order did something to the town to help him escape. . .”

She trailed off, and Edward didn’t know what to say. This was all crazy. Magic and demons and disappearing towns? If Grace weren’t acting so serious, Edward wouldn’t believe her. He didn’t know if he believed her as it was.

His life was simple: work to support his family and help Grace raise their children. They didn’t have a big mansion or a staff of servants like Edward’s father had, but that didn’t matter. Edward had purposefully distanced himself from his parents years ago. Now he only had Grace and the boys to worry about. His life was fairly typical for the California middle class, and he was okay with that. He worked and played and did normal things. Besides enjoying the occasional fantasy novel, he never thought much about magic. He didn’t need to.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you,” Grace said quietly. She didn’t sound resentful, but she did sound a bit disappointed.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Edward assured her. “I know you’re not lying, either. But. . . it is hard to believe.”

“I get that. If. . . if the memories weren’t so clear, I don’t think I’d believe it either. But they’re here, in my head, where they weren’t before, and I just. . . I _know_ they’re real.”

Edward looked into her eyes and saw the sincerity there. He couldn’t imagine how confusing it must be to suddenly have memories that he didn’t have just minutes before. Part of him wanted to recommend that Grace go to a doctor or a psychologist to try to figure all this out. But if magic was real, and if her memories really were taken from her by a magical amulet, then he didn’t think doctors would be able to do much.

Grace sat up. “I have to go to Oregon,” she said. “Can you watch the boys for a few days?”

“Wait, what?” said Edward, sitting up as well. “You’re just going to go?”

“Yes. I’ll take a plane, or rent a car, and stay at a hotel.” Grace hadn’t learned to drive until after she and Edward were married, and Edward knew she didn’t like getting behind the wheel of a car for long periods of time. But her face was determined.

“This — this is really sudden,” Edward said.

“So is my hometown disappearing,” Grace said. Her tone was a bit snappish. Realizing this, she dropped her gaze. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“No, you have a point,” Edward said. “Will you be safe?”

“I should be.” Grace got up, and Edward followed her out to the family computer in the living room. She logged in and started looking up information about flights. “I’m sorry to spring this on you,” she told Edward. “Will you be okay with the boys?”

“I’ll talk to Becky about watching them while I’m at work,” Edward said, “and I’ll see if I can get a few days off. We’ll be okay. I wish I could come with you.”

“Me too,” Grace said. “I’ve missed having you home, and now I’m the one leaving.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll miss you.” But he knew he had to let her go.

Grace got her plane tickets. Tomorrow, she would fly to Boise, Idaho, and then rent a car to drive to Baker City, Oregon, where she’d get a hotel room. She would visit Gravity Rises — or, the crater that used to be Gravity Rises — during the day with the rental car. The trip would likely use up the family’s vacation fund, but Edward agreed that this was enough of an emergency to warrant that. Once the travel plans were finalized, Grace went to get started on packing. Edward wasn’t sure why she felt the need to pack today, since she was leaving tomorrow, but some girls were like that for whatever reason.

The boys came home from Becky’s house a few hours later, and Grace made lunch for everyone. Then Edward and Grace spent the afternoon with their boys, and Grace explained that she was leaving for a few days, and you two will be good for Daddy, right?

That night, after putting the boys to bed, Edward read aloud to Grace and the baby in her belly. The fantasy novel he read felt overwhelming now that he knew real magic existed. But he read it anyway, and Grace curled up against him to listen. When he finished the chapter, he asked Grace if she could tell him more about Gravity Rises and her family and the Order of the Crescent Eye.

They stayed up talking for hours. Grace told Edward about the Order, about the Northwests’ involvement in it, and about her brother, Gideon, and his awful situation. Her memories were still somewhat choppy, and she often had to pause to think through details, but she was able to remember most of it. She and Edward talked about what they could do to help Gideon when he and the rest of the town came back. “I used to fantasize about taking him with me when I left,” Grace said, “and taking care of him myself. If. . . I don’t know what will happen, but if he needs to move in with us, would you be okay with that?”

Absolutely, Edward told her. Anything they could do to help him.

This cheered her up immensely. Grace fell asleep in Edward’s arms.

Edward lay awake for a while longer, processing everything he’d learned. There was a _lot_ to think about, though, and eventually his brain gave up and fell asleep. Edward had strange dreams that night — not nightmares, just really weird dreams.

When he woke up the next day, he was half convinced that the entire day before had also been a dream.

But it wasn’t. Grace got up, made breakfast for Edward and the boys, fed Duke, and got ready to leave. Then they all drove to the airport together. With hugs for her boys and a kiss for Edward, Grace left.

Just like that, she was on her way to Oregon.


	2. Chapter 2

**JANUARY 16, 2013**

“Take this,” said Dipper. He pulled a book out of his pack. “Take this to her. Give it back to her.”

Mabel’s sketchbook. Gideon took it. “All right.” He put the sketchbook in his own pack.

Gideon Northwest and Dipper Pines were both hovering beneath Mabel’s moon. Gideon flew with his amulet, and Dipper was riding a peryton named Marigold. Dipper had wanted to follow Gideon all the way up to the moon and help rescue his sister, but Marigold couldn’t make it. Despite her large feathered wings, she couldn’t get past the strong winds that swirled around the moon.

So Gideon had to go alone.

“Go,” said Dipper. “Go save my sister.” His eyes were wet, and he fixed Gideon with a hard stare.

“I will,” Gideon said. With that, he flew away from Dipper and toward the moon.

Big and blue, riddled with cracks, Mabel’s moon was her prison. Last Friday, five days ago, Pacifica Pleasure had stabbed Mabel with a magical dagger and caused her to disappear. Not long after, Mabel’s moon had appeared, floating above Gravity Rises and the surrounding forest. Mabel was up there, inside the moon, her life draining away to fuel the township.

Gideon had no idea how much longer she had before it was too late. The township was Bill Cipher’s prison, and the demon needed it to steal the life from all ten of his Symbols as it traveled through dimensions. Once it reached Bill’s dimension, the prison would dissolve, and Bill would be free to reign terror on the multiverse.

None of the Symbols were dead yet, but that could change at any minute. Mabel had been in her prison for five days. How much time did she have left?

That question weighed on Gideon as he flew up to the moon. The wind whipped around him, trying to throw him out of the sky, but with his amulet he was able to push through it. Gideon’s flight was powered by magic and therefore didn’t rely on the air to keep him aloft. Still, the wind beat at him as he flew, and he hoped he could get out of it soon.

The only way out of the wind, however, was into the moon. How would Gideon get inside? Would he fly into one of the bright blue cracks? Would he push against it until he got through? Was it even possible to get in?

Soon, he was only a few feet from the surface. The moon was directly above him. Its diameter was at least the length of a football field, and Gideon felt tiny in comparison. The blue glow, especially the brighter blue glow from the cracks, hurt his eyes.

He flew up to the moon and tentatively put a hand on the dark blue surface above him. Instantly, he felt a sharp, burning pain through his glove, as if he had just put his hand on a hot stove. Gideon instinctively dropped his hand. What was that?

He scowled. It was magic. It was the magic that was killing his friend.

He pulled off his glove and inspected his hand. It didn’t seem to be truly burned, and the pain faded quickly. That was fine, Gideon told himself. He could deal with the simulation of pain. He put his glove back on, then lifted both hands and pushed on the underbelly of the moon. The pain came again, but he didn’t drop his hands. With the power from his amulet, Gideon rose in the air, pushing hard on the moon. With his own strength and the strength of his amulet, he would try to get through.

The pain didn’t go away, but neither did Gideon. He kept pushing, gritting his teeth. It wasn’t long before his hands sank into the moon up to his wrists.

His hands burned, and he didn’t look forward to feeling that way all over his body. But that was the price he’d pay to get to Mabel. He kept pushing, though the pain grew more intense. And as he pushed, he slowly slid through the surface of the moon.

Gradually, he got up to his elbows, then pushed his head through.

His head felt as if it were on fire. Gideon’s eyes were closed, and he held his breath. He vaguely wondered if he would black out and fall. But he didn’t; he kept flying into the moon. His body begged for release from the burning pain. But Gideon was used to pain, and he bore it.

Then, finally, his feet were inside. Gideon’s entire body had passed through the surface of Mabel’s moon.

The pain disappeared.

Gideon let out a breath of relief, though he didn’t open his eyes. Now that he was entirely inside the moon, the burning magic had dissipated, leaving him hovering in what seemed to be normal air. He could breathe easily in here.

That was good. Hard to rescue someone when you can’t breathe.

Gideon opened his eyes, but there was nothing to see but the glow of his magic. It was otherwise entirely dark inside the moon.

His amulet wasn’t too bright, but his entire body was also glowing, since he was still in flight. The glow, though dim, was enough to see a bit of the area around him. Beneath him, he could see the dark blue surface that he had just passed through. He wondered if it would hold his weight, but he wasn’t curious enough to try standing on it. No more burning pain for him, no thank you.

He looked around, searching for something in the blackness. When he couldn’t see anything, he carefully flew through the moon.

“Mabel?” he called.

No response.

It felt awkward to fly around in an upright position, but Gideon could see better this way than he could horizontally. He didn’t fly upward, because he didn’t want to lose sight of the blue surface below him. But he wondered if he should. This moon was a huge sphere — Mabel could be anywhere inside it. Still, he didn’t want to lose sight of the surface and get disoriented.

“Mabel? Where are you?” Maybe it was stupid to call for her. But he did it anyway. Could she respond? Was she unconscious? Was she in too much pain to even cry out? Where could she be in this blackness?

Something came into view as he flew. Gideon squinted, trying to figure out what it was. Before long, his foot bumped into it.

He stopped, frowning. Was that. . . a staircase?

It was. It was a staircase. His foot had hit the bottom stair. Gideon crouched down to get a closer look. It looked like stone. What in the world?

He carefully stepped onto it. It seemed to hold his weight. He released his magic and walked up the staircase, trying in vain to see what was at the top. He was careful with each step and was ready to fly again if he needed to. But the stairs held true, and soon he was at the top.

The landing at the top of the stairs was surrounded by three walls, closing Gideon in. He felt behind him, just to make sure a fourth wall hadn’t appeared behind him. It didn’t seem that way.

He took off a glove and felt along the three walls. The two on his sides were stone, like the stairs, but the one in front of him felt like metal. Almost like. . .

He pushed on the metal wall.

It opened.

It was a door.

Sunlight streamed through the doorway. Gideon blinked in the sudden light, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and see what was on the other side of the door.

Trees. Just outside the door was grass, and a few yards away were trees.

What?

Gideon stood still, his hand holding the door open, and looked around at the new scene. He knew this place. It was the area behind the library. And this door was the door to the headquarters of the Order of the Crescent Eye.

Gideon looked over his shoulder. There was pure blackness behind him, just like before. He was still inside Mabel’s moon, right? Then what was he doing at the door to the Order? Was this some kind of simulation?

He thought of the simulated pain he’d felt as he’d come into the moon. It would make sense if this was also an illusion of some kind. Still, the sunlight coming through the door felt so real, and Gideon’s body cried out with joy at feeling the sun again. It’d been five days since the sun had disappeared, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it.

Focus, Gideon. He didn’t dare move away from the door and have it lock behind him and trap him inside this simulation. He didn’t know what the combination could possibly be to open it up again. He took a few steps onto the grass, pushing the door open wider, and held it there as he searched for a rock or something he could levitate over here and use to wedge it open.

There weren’t any rocks that he could see. What else could he use?

Oh, duh. His pack. Gideon retreated onto the stone landing and let the door close. By the light of his amulet, he rummaged through his pack until he found a flashlight Melody had put in there. He had his amulet for light now, and it was sunny here, so this flashlight had a much better use as a doorstop than as a light source. He opened the door and tried the flashlight as a doorstop.

It worked. He waited a good minute to see if it would slip, and it didn’t move. Gideon went through the door and made sure the flashlight stopped it from closing behind him.

Well, he had his escape route. But where was Mabel?

Gideon left the library and went out onto the road. It looked like he was right back in Gravity Rises on a lovely summer day. His coat, sweater vest, and gloves were thick and warm, so he took them off and put them in his pack. His dress shirt and slacks were warm as well, but he always wore long sleeves and pants, even in summer, so he didn’t mind.

No one was on the road to see him take off his winter clothes. No cars, no joggers, nothing. That was strange; Gravity Rises usually had a good tourist business in the summer. Tourists came year-round, but especially in the summer when it was warm. So where were they now?

Gideon shook his head. This was a simulation. No one was in here but him and Mabel. Of course there wouldn’t be tourists.

If this was a simulation of Gravity Rises, then would Mabel be in the Mystery Museum? Gideon decided to start his search there. He jogged down the road. The warm day made him want to slow down and stroll under the summer sun, but he couldn’t let himself get distracted. Simulation or no, Mabel could still be getting hurt, and he had to find her.

He turned onto the path that led to the Mystery Museum gift shop, then changed his mind and ran through the grass to the front door. Normally he wouldn’t run through someone else’s property, but this wasn’t the real Museum.

As he ran, he got more and more anxious. This fake summer day was quiet and beautiful, but it was probably hiding something terrible. He hurried up the porch steps and knocked on the door. Oh. Wait. This wasn’t the real Museum, so why would he knock? He needed to get through that door and find Mabel, not wait around on the porch!

Gideon reached for the doorknob.

The door opened. “Gideon!” said a voice.

Gideon froze. Mabel stood in the doorway.

She was wearing a red t-shirt and jeans. She didn’t look hurt at all. In fact, there was a smile on her face and a light in her eyes.

“You’re early,” she said with a grin.

She grabbed Gideon’s wrist and pulled him inside.


	3. Chapter 3

“We’re just eating breakfast,” Mabel said, closing the door behind Gideon. “Melody made hash brown casserole. Do you want some?”

Gideon looked to his left and saw, to his surprise, a small crowd in the kitchen. Around a large table — larger than the one Gideon was used to in the Museum — sat six people. Gideon recognized Dipper, Ford, Lincoln, and Melody, and the other two people looked like they must be Dipper and Mabel’s parents.

“Good morning, Gideon,” said Mabel’s dad. He had a clean-shaven, youthful face and an amiable smile. “Have a seat.”

Gideon blinked. What was going on? He followed Mabel into the kitchen and sat at an extra seat. Melody got a plate for him and served him food, and everyone started eating.

Gideon felt like a fugitive. He sat there at the table, his pack still on his back in case he needed a quick getaway. He pushed his food around and hoped no one would talk to him as he tried to figure things out. It was only he and Mabel here in the prison, wasn’t it? Mabel, the one getting hurt, and Gideon, here to rescue her. Why, then, were there other people all of the sudden? There hadn’t been anyone outside in the fake town.

And why was it morning? It had been evening when Gideon had flown to the moon. He’d been exhausted. But he’d ignored his exhaustion as he entered the moon, and now. . . now it was gone. It was morning here in this illusory world, and Gideon had energy again as if it really were morning. As if time had reset.

“Gideon? Are you going to eat?” asked Mabel.

Gideon glanced up at her. She seemed normal. Not just normal — happy. Happier than he had ever seen her. Her brown eyes were warm, and the constant ghost of a smile rested on her face. Gideon had expected her to be unconscious or in pain, not _happy_. Of course he wanted her to be happy, but — wasn’t she in a magical prison? Wasn’t she dying?

“Gideon?” she prompted.

“Uh, yes, thanks,” Gideon said. He put a bite of food in his mouth. It tasted delicious. It seemed real.

Mabel smiled at him, then took a bite of her own food.

“So, Gideon,” said Dipper, “where are you taking Mabel? She’s been talking about it all morning.”

“It’s a surprise, Dipper,” said Mabel. “He’s not going to tell.”

“Right,” Gideon said, though he had no idea what they were talking about.

“Do you need any of my Journals?” Ford asked.

“Um, no, I know the way,” Gideon said. He may not know what they were talking about, but he was pretty good at playing along.

“There’s a lunch for you in the fridge, Mabel,” said Melody.

“Be back by dinner, all right?” said Mabel’s mom.

“Okay, Mom,” Mabel said brightly.

Soon enough, everyone finished eating, and people left the kitchen as Melody started on the dishes. Gideon had only eaten a few bites of his food. He took the plate to the sink and told Melody that he already ate, but the food was delicious, thanks.

He followed Mabel out to the living room, where there were no other people. “So,” said Mabel, “are you ready to go?”

“Actually, I’m not,” Gideon said. “I’m. . . Mabel, will you answer some questions for me? They might sound silly, but I want to hear your answers.”

She frowned a bit, but her eyes still had a smile in them. “Sure.”

“When did I tell you I had a surprise for you?”

“Yesterday,” Mabel said. “You came over and told me you’d found something really cool in the forest, and you wanted to show me. Why?”

He ignored the question and asked, “Do you remember anything about the township or the dagger?”

“What?”

Oh, scrabdoodle.

Gideon rubbed at his eyes. She didn’t remember. Gideon was sick of people losing their memories, yet here it was again. Mabel was living in a fake world, and she didn’t remember the real one.

“Gideon, is everything okay?” Mabel asked. “You’re acting weird.”

“Sorry,” Gideon said. “I’m feeling out of sorts this morning.”

“Can we still go out to the forest? Or do you need to stay here and rest?”

How should he proceed? Mabel still needed saving, but she didn’t even know it. “We can still go out,” Gideon said carefully, “but I’m not up for the forest today. Let’s go to the library instead.”

Mabel flinched. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. A shadow passed over her face.

And then it was gone. “I like the library, Gideon, but. . . I really wanted to go exploring in the forest today. Do you think we still can?”

He frowned. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You flinched when I mentioned the library.”

“What? No I didn’t,” Mabel said. “Why would I do that?”

Because that’s where the entrance to the Order headquarters is, Gideon replied silently, and you’ve had traumatic experiences with the Order. How he was going to say that when she didn’t seem to remember those traumatic experiences, he didn’t know.

Before he could decide how to respond, someone knocked on the door. “Oh, who could that be?” said Mabel, and she went to answer it.

“Hi, Mabel, are you ready to go?”

Gideon stared.

It was Gideon.

The boy stood at the door, smiling at Mabel. He looked exactly like Gideon, except that he wore a long-sleeved polo shirt and jeans. Jeans? Gideon didn’t own jeans. And he almost never smiled like that. Who was this guy?

“Um,” said Mabel after a few seconds of silence. She glanced over her shoulder at the real Gideon before turning back to the fake one. “What. . . what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Fake Gideon asked.

Mabel glanced over her shoulder again. Fake Gideon followed her gaze. His eyes locked on Gideon’s.

“Who are you?” he asked, bewildered.

Gideon stepped forward to answer the question. But he didn’t address Fake Gideon; he addressed Mabel. “I’m the real Gideon,” he said. “Mabel, I know I’m going to sound crazy, but this world isn’t real. It’s some kind of simulation. I’m the real Gideon, and I’m here to bring you back to the real world.”

She stared at him blankly. His words seemed to go over her head.

“You must be that clone from the other day,” Fake Gideon said. “I knew that was going to come back to haunt me.”

“Don’t listen to him, Mabel,” Gideon said. “You’ve been in this simulation for five days, and if you don’t get out soon—”

“I should’ve dealt with you right away, but I thought maybe you’d leave me alone.” Fake Gideon spoke as if Gideon hadn’t said anything. “Sorry, Mabel. I got into a situation in the woods that created this clone, and I just left him alone and hoped nothing would happen. Looks like he’s found you.”

“That’s a lie,” Gideon said, glaring at Fake Gideon.

“I think you’re the one lying,” Fake Gideon said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m just here to take my friend exploring, like I told her I would. And you’re here to steal my identity and spew conspiracy theories.”

Gideon took a calming breath. “Look,” he said, turning back to Mabel, “you have to listen to me.”

He was going to say more, but Fake Gideon interrupted him again. “No, she doesn’t,” he said.

“Wait a minute,” Mabel said. The blank look on her face disappeared, and she put up her hands. “Okay, so there are two of you. I don’t mind that, although it’ll get confusing. We should come up with different names to tell you apart.”

Both Gideon and Fake Gideon blinked in surprise. That wasn’t the reaction Gideon was expecting.

He managed to pull himself together before Fake Gideon did. “Charles,” he said. He pointed at Fake Gideon. “You can be Charles. I’ll be Gideon.”

Fake Gideon, or Charles, wrinkled his nose. “What? No. I’m the real Gideon, so I get to be Gideon. And where did you get the name Charles?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “It’s my middle name. Which you’d know if you were the real Gideon. Which you’re not.”

“I don’t have a middle name. You’re making that up.”

“Guys,” Mabel said, “please don’t argue. I’m sorry, Charles, but he called the name Gideon.”

“What?” Charles demanded. “But Mabel, it’s me. I’m the real Gideon. I came to show you the surprise I had for you.”

“I know,” Mabel said. “And I’d love to go with you. And Gideon can come too, if he wants.”

Did she say “I know” meaning “I know you’re the real Gideon” or meaning “I know you came to show me your surprise”? Gideon was so focused on that question that he almost missed her offer. “Oh,” he said, “um, sure. I’ll come with you.”

“No, he can’t come,” Charles whined. “And please don’t call him Gideon. He’s just a clone.”

“Clones are people too,” Mabel said.

Gideon couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking. But the smile was back in her eyes, both when she looked at Charles and when she looked at Gideon. She was taking all this in stride — and she seemed to have completely dismissed what Gideon said about her world being fake.

He was dealing with an amnesiac Mabel who didn’t listen to him when he spoke the truth. And not only that, but he had this Charles to get in his way. In the past, there’d been another clone that Gideon had called Charles, and he didn’t mind reusing the name now. It would help him think of this guy — this illusion, or whatever he was — as a different person.

“I’ll need a way to remember who’s who,” Mabel said. “Hey, Dipper?” she called up the stairs.

“Yeah?” came Dipper’s voice.

“Will you bring down some name tags and a pen?”

“Sure.”

Name tags? Gideon had told Mabel her world was fake, and she was concerned about getting name tags for him and Charles? The Mabel that Gideon knew would’ve been obsessed with the idea that her world was fake — she would’ve needed to know the truth. But this prison must have strong magic to make her dismiss the possibility entirely.

Dipper jumped down the stairs, the requested supplies in his hands. Gideon hadn’t seen or heard him at all since breakfast. In fact, the only time Gideon saw other people was when they were around Mabel. Did that mean they only existed when Mabel wanted them to? If this was some kind of dream, then it would make sense that Mabel, the dreamer, subconsciously controlled the people in it.

“Two Gideons, huh?” said Dipper. “You guys get into some crazy shenanigans.”

“Yeah,” Mabel said with a laugh. “This one is a clone, we’re pretty sure. But we’ll call him Gideon, and we’ll call the first guy Charles. Will you make them name tags?”

Dipper wrote the names out on the adhesive name tags and stuck them to the boys’ shirts. Gideon was reminded of the real Dipper, when he’d named the perytons before going to the Northwest Manor. The Pines twins liked naming things, Gideon supposed.

“This is dumb,” said Charles, looking down at his name tag in distaste. The name tag had a picture of a dinosaur in a backwards baseball cap. “Just because he called the name first doesn’t make him Gideon.”

Gideon glanced down at his own name tag, which had a waffle with buff arms. Did the real Dipper have name tags with these ridiculous pictures on them? Gideon didn’t doubt it.

“It’s fair, though,” Mabel said. “You’re still my friend, Charles. That doesn’t change.”

“My name is Gideon,” Charles grumbled.

Mabel ignored that. Gideon was glad she was so insistent on using the name Charles. It would help Gideon convince her that Charles wasn’t real. At least, he hoped it would.

“Have fun out there,” Dipper said. He went back up the stairs without even asking if he could come along.

“All right, let’s go!” Mabel said. “Lead on, Charles.” With a grin, she looped her arm in Charles’. Then she did the same with Gideon’s.

Gideon blinked. She seemed really friendly with them. Was that just because she was happy and carefree in this world, or. . . was it something more?

He pushed that thought from his mind. It didn’t matter right now.

Charles looked unhappy that Gideon was coming along, but he didn’t say anything. He led Mabel and Gideon out of the Museum and to the tree line. “Does that amulet of yours work, clone?” he asked Gideon.

“Yes,” Gideon replied smoothly. “Does yours?”

“Of course it does. If you want to come, you’ll have to follow us.” Charles waved his hand, motioning for Gideon to let go of Mabel.

How was Charles going to levitate himself and Mabel at the same time? Gideon stepped back to watch.

Charles’ amulet lit up. A teal aura appeared around both him and Mabel. They lifted into the air.

Gideon’s eyes widened. He jumped into the air and flew after them. “You can’t do that,” he called to Charles. “The amulet can only levitate one person at a time!”

Charles looked back at him. “What kind of nonsense is that?” He seemed to have no problems controlling his own flight and Mabel’s. The serene look on Mabel’s face told Gideon that they did this often.

That shouldn’t be possible. Maybe it was possible in this illusory world, but it wasn’t possible in real life. Mabel had forgotten that, too.

Gideon flew behind Mabel and Charles, wondering what other abilities Charles’ amulet had. If this world acted mostly like the real world, but Charles had extra magical abilities, then would Gideon be any match in a fight against him? Maybe not. After all, the prison magic ran this world. If it had any sort of sentience with which to strategize, it would certainly overwhelm Gideon with things he and his amulet couldn’t combat.

On top of that, the magic had some kind of hold on Mabel’s mind. Mabel had forgotten the real world and was resistant to reminders of it. Gideon had expected to fight through the moon with his amulet and escape with Mabel as soon as he found her. This situation, however, caught him off guard.

He didn’t like being caught off guard.

But he wouldn’t give up just because he was a little surprised. He could handle Charles. He could remind Mabel of the real world and convince her to come with him. He could still save her.

Gideon followed Mabel and Charles through the sky. A summer breeze blew through his hair, and it felt real. Ahead of him, Mabel looked happy as she flew beside Charles. That happiness seemed real, too.

But this world wasn’t real. Beneath the lovely summer day, beneath the happiness, Mabel was still dying.

Gideon had to get her out of here.


	4. Chapter 4

**JANUARY 17, 2013**

Pacifica could hear them. People had just arrived at the Mystery Museum. She could hear Dipper’s loud, happy voice. He was back.

Was Mabel with him?

“You’d better stay away from her if she is,” commented Shadow Pacifica. The shade was, fittingly, lurking in the shadows of the parlor. “You’ll need to apologize to her eventually, but right now I’m sure the sight of your face would give her a panic attack.”

“I wasn’t planning on going near her,” Pacifica retorted. “Leave me alone already.”

Shadow Pacifica had first appeared yesterday morning, and she hadn’t left Pacifica since. She’d stayed with her, whispering harsh words and commenting on Pacifica’s thoughts. Shadow Pacifica was, according to her, a part of Pacifica’s mind. Some kind of representation of her subconscious. And Pacifica’s subconscious was hateful, condescending, and vehemently opposed to Bill Cipher.

That last part was the hardest to believe. Pacifica’s subconscious, opposed to Bill Cipher? No way. Bill had helped Pacifica so much since her amulet was destroyed. In fact, his presence was enough to temporarily get rid of Spirit Mabel — the spirit that Pacifica had thought was Mabel’s creation but had actually been Shadow Pacifica all along.

Shadow Pacifica insisted that, despite what Pacifica thought, Mabel had never used magic to haunt her. Pacifica's own mind had done that. Not Mabel. Which meant Pacifica had hurt Mabel — had sent her to her death — for nothing.

Never mind. Pacifica didn’t really believe that, no matter how often Shadow Pacifica repeated it. The point was, Bill had done nothing but help Pacifica. How could she secretly want to fight against him? It made no sense.

When Pacifica had first had this thought, Shadow Pacifica had laughed derisively. “As if _your_ mind makes sense.”

She had a point. But Pacifica refused to admit as much.

“Pacifica,” the shade had said, “I know your thoughts. I _am_ your thoughts — at least some of them. Of course I have a point.”

It was awful. Shadow Pacifica had been here for only a day, but she’d already made it clear that not only did she know Pacifica’s thoughts, but she would take every opportunity to mock them.

She’d been a lot easier to ignore before she’d manifested as a person — or a spirit, or a shade, or a hallucination, or whatever she was. Pacifica had had self-deprecating thoughts before, but had been very skilled at ignoring them. They were harder to ignore when she could clearly hear Shadow Pacifica.

Which was the point, as Shadow Pacifica had reminded her.

Now, however, Pacifica tried to ignore the shade and went to the door, where she pressed her ear against the wood. The people she was trying to eavesdrop on were at breakfast (which Pacifica had eaten ten minutes before), and the kitchen was across the house, so Pacifica couldn’t make out words or tell how many people were talking. She could only hear Dipper’s bright voice.

If his voice was this bright, then surely he’d saved his sister. Pacifica’s stomach twisted.

“Don’t you _want_ him to be happy?” said Shadow Pacifica. “Mabel makes him happy, Pacifica. Not you. Maybe you could, if you stopped making his life miserable; but if you want Dipper to be happy right now, then you should leave him alone with Mabel.”

“Stop assuming I want to go out there,” Pacifica snapped.

“I know your thoughts. I know you want to go out there.”

Well. . . yes, Pacifica had been considering it. Go out there and remind Dipper that she was here, that she would protect him from Mabel. Except. . . if Mabel made him happy. . .

“He needs protection from _you_ , not from her.”

It was too bad Shadow Pacifica was intangible, because Pacifica had a strong desire to punch her between her soulless black eyes.

Pacifica tried in vain to listen to the conversation in the kitchen without leaving the parlor. No such luck. She went back and sat on her air mattress. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes later, the knob to the parlor turned. “Pacifica?” came Melody’s voice.

“I heard Dipper,” Pacifica said, wasting no time. “Is Mabel back, too?”

Strangely, she almost hoped the answer was yes.

“Not yet,” Melody said. “Neither is Gideon. But Ford is here, and he’d like to talk to you.”

“About what?” Pacifica said warily. She knew exactly what. But she didn’t think she wanted to be alone with Ford. It was partly her fault that Ford and Lincoln had been taken by the Northwest servants last Friday. He probably hated her.

“Melody doesn’t hate you,” Shadow Pacifica pointed out. Her tone was surprisingly mild. “Maybe Ford doesn’t either. You deserve to be hated, of course, but maybe he’s forgiving.”

You deserve to be hated. The shade said it so casually, as if it were undeniable fact.

Maybe it was.

“I’ll let him tell you what he wants,” Melody said. “I’m going to go work on another project with Dipper. Will you be okay with Ford? He promised me he wouldn’t try to hurt you. He just wants to talk.”

 _Just_ wants to talk. Pacifica was sure he would talk about as nicely as Shadow Pacifica.

But, “Fine. He’ll have to bring chairs for us.” Pacifica gestured around at the room, which was empty besides the air mattress.

Melody nodded. She put a hand on the knob, but lingered in the doorway. “Are you doing okay? Is. . . is Shadow Pacifica still here?”

Pacifica should never have told Melody about Shadow Pacifica. Yesterday, after Pacifica had embarrassingly cried on Melody’s shoulder for a while, the conniving woman had managed to draw out an explanation about Spirit Mabel, Shadow Pacifica, everything. Melody had been even more annoyingly concerned about Pacifica ever since.

“Of course she’s still here,” Pacifica said, irritated. “She never left when she was Mabel, and she won’t leave now. I don’t want to talk to you about her, because she’ll just say rude things to me the entire time I try.”

“Oh, you know me so well,” Shadow Pacifica drawled.

“Okay,” Melody said calmly. “But I want to help you.”

Was that the only thing Melody knew how to say? “Yes, yes,” Pacifica said dismissively.

Melody looked like she wanted to say something else, but she wisely withdrew from the room and closed the door.

Pacifica stood and attempted to wait primly for Ford, though it was hard to look prim in the simple shirt and leggings she was wearing. It was the only outfit she had with her (unless you counted the bulky snow gear that Melody had long since confiscated), and there was _no_ way Pacifica would wear Mabel’s clothes. Dipper would never allow it, anyway. She just had to look dignified despite her common attire.

“Who are you trying to impress, anyway?” Shadow Pacifica asked. But Pacifica didn’t respond. The shade knew full well that it wasn’t about impressing people. It was about showing power. Or at least resilience.

Ford opened the door a minute later. He had chairs under his arms, and he maneuvered them carefully through the door frame. “Hello, Pacifica,” he said cordially once he was in the room. His voice didn’t have any hatred. But it didn’t really have any emotion to begin with.

“Hello,” she said imperiously. “Is this a hostage exchange?”

Shadow Pacifica snorted. It was very unladylike.

“No, I’m afraid you need to stay here,” Ford said.

A moment of silence passed as Ford set the chairs a few feet apart from each other. He sat down, and Pacifica followed suit, noting the space between them. Ford was out of arm’s reach. Was that to reassure her, or to keep himself safe?

“You know,” Pacifica said, “a _parlor_ typically refers to a room with couches and chairs where people can sit and chat.” It was stupid to call this empty room a parlor if it wasn’t one.

Ford chuckled. “Yes, I know. When the house was first built, Fiddleford and I imagined we’d use this room to talk to other scientists when they came to see our projects. That clearly didn’t happen, and I never got around to furnishing the room. But I still call it the parlor.” He folded his six-fingered hands in his lap. “You and I are sitting and chatting in here, aren’t we? So it’s a fitting name.”

“Are we chatting?” Pacifica asked disdainfully.

“I would like to,” Ford said. “I’d like to talk to you about my brother.”

“I knew it,” Shadow Pacifica said. “He doesn’t care about you. He just cares about Lincoln.”

Pacifica already knew that. The only reason Ford would come in here to talk to her would be if he wanted to talk about Lincoln. “What about him?” Pacifica asked, playing dumb.

“Did he appear to you yesterday?” Ford asked. “It would’ve been around dinnertime.”

Yes. He had. But Pacifica didn’t want to tell Ford that.

“Stop being petty, Pacifica,” said Shadow Pacifica. “You can’t hide it for long. Gideon will contact Lincoln with his amulet when he gets back, anyway. _If_ he gets back.”

Ford could obviously tell from Pacifica’s face that she had seen Lincoln. “Is he here now?” Ford asked.

“No, the only person here is a faceless idiot,” Pacifica said, glaring at Shadow Pacifica.

“Excuse me, I have a _beautiful_ face,” Shadow Pacifica said. She put a hand to her face, which looked exactly like Pacifica’s, save a greyish skin tone and those black pits for eyes.

“I’m not sure I follow,” Ford said.

“Never mind,” Pacifica said. “Lincoln was here last night, but he’s not here now. He said he wanted to go look around town to get information.”

Ford smiled. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You would’ve figured it out anyway,” Pacifica muttered.

“Will you also tell me what he said to you? I think I know, but I’d like to hear it from you if you’re willing.”

“This is your chance,” Shadow Pacifica said. “You can tell him what Lincoln said, and you can say that you’re on his side now and you’ll join the Cipher Wheel.”

Pacifica glared at the shade over her shoulder. “Shut up,” she hissed. “I’m not, and I won’t.”

“Pacifica?”

She turned back to Ford. “I won’t talk,” she said, “and you’re too soft to torture the information out of me. So it seems we’re at an impasse.”

Ford looked at her thoughtfully. “No,” he said, “of course I won’t torture you. Just because you hurt me once doesn’t give me the right to hurt you.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Pacifica said with a slight roll of her eyes. She couldn’t tell if Ford was saying that to teach her some grand life lesson, or if he was saying it to remind himself. Perhaps he was holding himself back from throttling her. Well, she wasn’t afraid. She didn’t have her amulet or her hexal magic, but she was surely faster than this old man.

Shadow Pacifica groaned. “You’re thinking about this all wrong,” she said. “He’s not out to hurt you. You don’t have to think of him as your enemy.”

Of _course_ she did. This was the man who wanted to hurt Bill, who wanted to take Lincoln away from her!

“Lincoln can love more than one person, you idiot,” Shadow Pacifica said. “You don’t get to keep him to yourself.”

“Pacifica,” Ford said, “we’re going to need your help to form the Cipher Wheel. I don’t know what I need to do or say to convince you, but please give me a chance.”

“Don’t worry, old man. I’ll convince her,” Shadow Pacifica said confidently.

Ford, of course, didn’t hear her. He leaned forward and looked Pacifica in the eyes. “Pacifica, will you help my brother gain a physical form, and then join the Cipher Wheel yourself?”

Pacifica held his gaze. Two days ago, she would’ve reacted violently, screaming of course not, I’d never betray Bill like that, how could you suggest it! But now, after spending a day with Shadow Pacifica, Pacifica actually had to consider her answer.

“Say yes, Pacifica,” Shadow Pacifica said, sounding annoyed. “You know it’s the right thing to do. It shouldn’t take this long. Not that I should expect anything better from _you_ , but—”

“Shut up,” Pacifica snapped, twisting around in her chair to glare at the shade.

“Who are you talking to?” Ford asked.

“Oh, so Melody hasn’t told you my secrets yet?” asked Pacifica, facing Ford and crossing her arms. “Good. I already told her too much.”

Ford gave a small smile. “She has a way of getting information,” he said. “She would never use it against you, though.”

“I doubt that.” Why get information from someone in the first place if you’re not planning on using it against them?

“I think we’ve gotten off track,” Ford said. “Do you have an answer to my question?”

Pacifica wanted to _stay_ off track. “Speaking of torture,” she said, circling around and avoiding the topic of the Cipher Wheel, “why aren’t you hurt? I was told that Cipher’s servants are very good at torturing people.”

“Oh, they are,” Ford said. Pacifica hoped to see a repressed shudder or a haunted look in his eyes, but his face and body language remained neutral. “I’d rather not talk about that. Do you need time to think about your answer?”

Did she? Of course the answer was no. Of course she’d never help defeat Bill. Who else had helped her after she’d lost her amulet? Who else had promised her peace and love?

“Lincoln,” Shadow Pacifica said. “Lincoln did both of those things, the best he could. And Gideon wanted to help you after you lost your amulet. The only reason he didn’t was because he couldn’t find you. Both of them care about you, Pacifica, and both of them want to defeat Bill. Can’t you see that they’re right?”

The shade sounded almost kind, for once. “Bill was using you,” she continued. “He was only pretending to be kind to get what he wanted.”

Isn’t Ford doing the exact same thing? Pacifica thought, though she didn’t dare say it aloud.

“I don’t think so. He and Lincoln need your help, but they’re not going to get rid of you afterward, the way Bill would.”

You told me Ford didn’t care about me, Pacifica silently pointed out.

“Maybe not yet, but I think he could,” Shadow Pacifica admitted. “I think if you help him and Lincoln, they’ll take care of you afterward. They won’t abandon you the way your parents did.”

Pacifica wasn’t sure about that. But. . . it sounded nice.

She’d imagined living a perfect life in Bill’s dimension with her friends. With the people who cared about her. No evil Mabel, no parents who neither remembered nor cared about her. But if Mabel wasn’t actually evil. . . and if Lincoln was willing to help her no matter where they were. . . did she need to leave her own dimension at all?

Ford waited silently while Pacifica thought. She wanted to laugh in his face, to tell him to get lost because she’d _never_ help him. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Tell him yes,” Shadow Pacifica urged. “Tell him you’ll help him.”

But she couldn’t do that, either. Pacifica couldn’t just turn against Bill like that. Less than a week of captivity, and only one day with Shadow Pacifica, and she was already going to break? No way. Even if she was starting to believe Shadow Pacifica — which she _wasn’t_ — she was far too stubborn to show it.

“Okay,” Ford said, taking Pacifica’s silence as a sign that yes, she needed more time to think. “You don’t have to answer me right now. But think about it. Think about what it would mean to have Bill escape his prison. We Symbols would die, and Bill would have full power to hurt other people. If we don’t form the Cipher Wheel—”

“Shut up,” Pacifica said. “Don’t lecture me.”

Ford pursed his lips, but then put his hands up. “All right. Just. . . think about it. And if Lee returns, will you come get me? Will you help me talk to him by telling me what he says?”

“No,” Pacifica muttered. “I won’t help you.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes as she said it, though.

Ford got to his feet. “I’ll leave you, then. Please consider helping me talk to my brother.” He picked up his chair. “Could I take your chair?”

“Why, so I can’t use it to break the window and escape?” Pacifica asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly why,” Ford said.

He wasn’t even trying to hide that she was a prisoner. Pacifica didn’t want to give him the chair. Escape attempts aside, she wanted to have somewhere to sit other than the air mattress. She wondered what would happen if she threw a tantrum about it.

But Ford didn’t seem very tolerant of tantrums. And although Pacifica thought she was faster than him, he was likely stronger and could force the chair from her without much effort. So Pacifica stood up and let him take it with no more resistance than a glare.

“You don’t really want to escape, anyway,” Shadow Pacifica said. “You want to stay and fight Bill.”

Pacifica’s eye twitched, but now wasn’t a good time to yell at the shade. Not while Ford was still here. Pacifica maintained her glare as the old man took the chairs out of the room. “Thanks for the chat,” he said mildly, and he closed the door behind him.

There was a moment of silence.

“Well,” Shadow Pacifica said, “he’s a nice man. Especially considering that you’ve tortured him before. You should listen to him. You should join the Cipher Wheel.”

In response, Pacifica threw herself onto the air mattress and screamed into her pillow.


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Melody asked.

Gideon set the pillow she had just handed him on the couch. “This is great,” he said. “Thanks.”

It was the evening of his first day in Mabel’s moon. He, Mabel, and Charles had spent most of the day in the forest. Now, Charles had gone home (or, more accurately, disappeared until the next time Mabel wanted him to visit), and Mabel and Gideon had returned to the Museum. Mabel had asked Ford if Gideon could stay, since he was a clone and didn’t have anywhere else to go. Ford had agreed — and, like Mabel, he’d been surprisingly uncurious about exactly where Gideon had come from or what he was doing here. Gideon had been welcomed, and now Melody and Mabel were helping him make a bed for himself on the couch.

Where all the adults slept, Gideon wasn’t sure. There weren’t enough beds in the Museum for them, at least not in the real world. But since they were illusions here, Gideon supposed it didn’t matter where they slept. As long as Mabel still thought they were real.

“Are you sure you don’t want to borrow some pajamas?” asked Mabel.

“I’ll be fine,” Gideon said. He didn’t want to take any chances with a fake person’s fake clothes.

“Okay, then,” Melody said. “I’m going to go home now. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” She waved at Gideon and Mabel, then left out the front door.

Gideon blinked. “She doesn’t live here?”

Mabel giggled. “No, of course she doesn’t. She has her own house nearby, but she comes to work here most days.”

Huh. Gideon had thought Melody was some kind of live-in maid. In real life, she’d been at the Museum whenever he’d been there, after all. But he supposed that having servants living on your property was rare and expensive enough that only people like the Northwests did it.

“Thanks for letting me stay here, Mabel,” Gideon said.

“Of course. Thanks for coming with Charles and me today. I’m sorry he couldn’t shrink you.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you had a good time.”

Charles’ surprise had been a pretty good one: a village of brownies. The brownies were tiny people about as tall as Gideon’s index finger, and Charles had taken Mabel to see them and interact with them. How? By using his amulet to shrink her and himself to their size.

The real amulet couldn’t do that.

Charles claimed he could only shrink two people at a time. Gideon didn’t know if that was true or if he just said it to exclude him, but either way, Gideon didn’t get to join Charles and Mabel in their visit to the brownie village. He sat outside, a few feet from the village gates, watching tiny Mabel and Charles walk in as some nearby brownies eyed Gideon nervously. He wondered what it would be like from their perspective, to have a giant person come and sit outside your home.

The brownies followed Mabel and Charles inside, and Gideon didn’t see any others until Mabel came out again. It was more evidence that, besides Gideon, everyone only existed around Mabel. Gideon heard distant birdsong while he waited, but saw no animals.

Mabel and Charles were in the brownie village for much of the day. Gideon was rather bored waiting for them. More than that, he was anxious. If this was Mabel’s perfect world, then nobody would attack her, right? Gideon thought she was safe from that, at least, but he didn’t think he could count on it. And even if no one visibly attacked her, she was still in danger just by being in this moon. How was Gideon going to get her out of here if Charles wasted her time by shrinking her down to go visit brownies?

Eventually, Mabel and Charles had come out of the brownie village, and Charles had returned them both to their normal size. Mabel’s eyes were alight with joy as she recounted to Gideon all the great things she’d seen in the brownie village, and she thanked Charles again and again for his surprise. Gideon had followed her and Charles back to the Museum, where Charles had said goodbye and left.

Good riddance.

Gideon had eaten dinner with the Pines, and then they’d all played board and card games. Waddles, the dumb pig, had tried to eat Gideon’s cards the whole time, but Gideon hardly noticed, since he was trying to talk to Mabel. She’d been too focused on the games; it wasn’t until now that he’d gotten a moment alone with her. The sun outside was setting, and Gideon felt tired, but he didn’t want to sleep.

“Well, I’m going to go to bed now,” Mabel said.

“Wait, Mabel,” said Gideon. “I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About—” He took a breath. This shouldn’t be hard. He was good at being blunt. “Mabel, I know today was wonderful, but this world isn’t real. You’re in a magical prison that’s slowly draining your—”

“Hey, Mabel, are you coming?” Dipper called down the stairs.

Mabel glanced up the stairs, then back at Gideon. “Sorry, Gideon, I really should go to bed. Can you tell me in the morning?”

Gideon stared at her. Had she even heard him? She wasn’t reacting to what he had told her. “No,” he said, “it really can’t wait. You’re dying, Mabel. We have to get you out of here.”

Dipper appeared at the top of the stairs, poking out his head above the banister. “Come on, Mabel, I wanna hear all about your day.”

“She told you about her day at dinner,” Gideon said irritably. “Let me talk to her.”

“But she didn’t tell me the details,” Dipper said. “Please, Mabel?”

“Okay, okay,” Mabel said. “Sorry, Gideon. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” She smiled at him, then went up the stairs.

Gideon watched her go, dumbfounded. His words weren’t registering with her at all.

Stupid magic.

Did he need to kidnap her or something? Forcibly take her to the Order headquarters and get her out of the moon? He probably could do that, but he didn’t want to. What if the people in this fake world stopped him? What if Mabel hated him, even after she was thinking straight again? Maybe he was a coward to be worried about that, but. . . well, it was a miracle that Mabel had forgiven him in the past. He didn’t want to do anything else that would hurt her.

With a sigh, Gideon turned off the light in the living room, took off his pack, and lay down on the couch. What a mess.

He was tired, but he didn’t think he could sleep. It was dangerous to sleep when he still didn’t know exactly how this world worked. What if he fell asleep and woke up after Mabel was already dead? No, he shouldn’t sleep. He sat up, realizing he shouldn’t even lie down. He probably should stand up and move around, to keep his energy up, but. . . it was nice, sitting there on the couch in the dark and quiet.

What should he do, short of kidnapping Mabel, to get her out of here? If he could get her alone for more than a minute, maybe he could get her to listen to him. Or he could convince her to go to the library with him. She liked libraries, so surely that wouldn’t be too hard. And then he’d take her to the back door, under the guise of showing her something cool the way Charles had, and get her out.

He didn’t want to trick her there. He could try, but it would be easier if she knew what was going on and wanted to leave. How could he convince her, though, if she wouldn’t listen? Was there a way he could show her things from the real world, rather than just tell her about them?

The answer came to him almost instantly. Of course! Her sketchbook! Dipper had given Gideon her sketchbook, and it surely had drawings of the people and events from the real world.

Gideon reached down for his pack. He had kept it on his back all day, for fear of it disappearing somehow, but he’d taken it off to lie on the couch. Bad idea; he should put it back on. But his tired shoulders convinced him not to, so instead he set it beside himself on the couch. His amulet lit up, and he pulled out the waterproof bag that held Mabel’s sketchbook.

He took the sketchbook out of the bag and opened it. He had seen Mabel drawing in it in the time he’d spent at the Museum. She’d been too shy to show him her sketches, but, well, he was going to look at them now. Part of him felt self-conscious about that, but he pushed the feeling away. He needed to know what was in here so he could craft his arguments.

The sketchbook was about three-fourths of the way full. Gideon wondered how many full sketchbooks Mabel had at home. He started at the most recent drawing and went backwards, studying sketches of Dipper, of Ford, of Lincoln, of Andrew the minotaur, and of Gideon himself. Mabel’s art style wasn’t photorealistic, but the facial features and proportions were fairly accurate. She had a cartoon style as well, which she often used for Dipper and for fictional characters, but most of her drawings of the people in Gravity Rises were in her more realistic style. There were fairies, and shadowy sketches of Pacifica, and a particularly detailed drawing of Fiddleford with his white beard, black eyepatch, and crinkly smile. Gideon remembered that day: Fidds had been talking to Mabel about her art, and she mentioned that it was hard to remember details when she was sketching from memory. So Fidds had offered to pose for her, and she shyly — but eagerly — accepted. The resulting sketch wasn’t perfect, but it was really good.

Plenty of the sketches were happy, but there were also some dark, creepy sketches, particularly the ones of Pacifica. A few hooded Order members lurked in the corners of the pages, too. Gideon could show those darker sketches to Mabel to try to bring back her memories.

Near the end of the sketchbook, one particular sketch grabbed Gideon’s attention. It was a sketch of Mabel’s parents, smiling at the viewer with their arms around each other. Beneath the drawing, Mabel had written, “Will I ever see them again?”

Gideon looked sadly at the drawing. Mabel had fake versions of her parents here in the moon. But what about her real parents? What were they doing? How did they feel after their children hadn’t come home last week? Mabel might be happy with the parents she had in here, but her real parents would be heartbroken if their daughter died. Gideon had to get that through her head somehow.

He had been looking through the sketchbook and planning for about half an hour when something lit up in his periphery. Gideon looked over to see sunlight shining through the diamond-shaped window in the door.

What?

He put Mabel’s sketchbook back in his backpack and shrugged the pack onto his shoulders — just in case — before standing and going over to the door. He opened it and stepped onto the porch — into the sunlight. The morning sun was to his left, bathing the lawn and the trees with its light.

But. . . it was night. It had just been night a moment ago. It had been only half an hour since Mabel had gone to bed. Gideon had been feeling tired himself.

With a start, Gideon realized that he no longer felt tired. He felt energized, as if he’d just gotten a full night’s sleep. Had he fallen asleep? Had the sun woken him up? No. . . no, he’d been looking through Mabel’s sketchbook. He hadn’t fallen asleep.

Time had skipped to morning.

Footsteps in the house pulled his attention away from the sunlit lawn. Dipper ran down the stairs, followed by Mabel. “Good morning, Gideon,” she said, noticing him through the open front door. “What are you doing out there?”

Gideon came back inside and closed the door. “I was, um, just watching the sunrise.”

“Oh, cool. Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

Clearly, Mabel had no idea that time had just skipped forward. “No,” Gideon said, “I didn’t sleep at all. There was no time to, because time skipped.”

“Huh?”

She actually seemed to hear him this time. Gideon tried not to get too excited. “The sun rose only a few minutes after it set,” he said. “This world is an illusion, Mabel. You probably thought you were falling asleep, when really you were just closing your eyes for a moment before you ‘woke up’ again with more energy. I saw with my own eyes how the night turned to day. It happened in an instant.”

With a sinking heart, he realized that Mabel’s eyes had glazed over again as he spoke. Even if she had heard the first thing he’d said about time skipping, she didn’t seem to hear much else. “I’m glad you watched the night turn to day,” she said. “That sounds pretty. I’m sorry you didn’t get any sleep, though. Do you want to try sleeping in Dipper’s bed while the rest of us eat breakfast?”

Gideon scowled. “No,” he said through gritted teeth, “I’ll be fine. I have energy.”

“Are you sure? You look upset.”

“Yes, I’m upset,” Gideon said, forcing himself not to shout at her. “I’m upset because you’re dying. I’m upset because you don’t realize this world isn’t real.”

He looked her in the eye. He spoke clearly.

Yet she still didn’t listen.

“I’m sorry you’re upset,” she said. “Will breakfast help? Melody will come make it in a few minutes.”

Gideon barely managed to stop the frustrated scream that simmered in his throat. “Breakfast sounds great,” he said. He wanted to go outside and scream at the sky, at the illusory world that was trapping his friend. But he didn’t want to leave her side. Anything could happen to her if he left. So he followed Mabel and Dipper into the gift shop, where Melody and Robbie were getting ready to open up shop.

“Morning, kids,” Melody said. “I was just about to go make breakfast. Give me a minute.” She put merchandise on the shelves, filling in the empty spaces where customers had bought the previous trinkets.

Mabel and Dipper greeted her, then went over to talk to Robbie. Gideon stayed near the Employees Only door. He was still scowling, but he didn’t care. Mabel wasn’t listening. If he showed her the sketchbook, would she even see it? Or would her eyes pass over it the way her ears passed over Gideon’s words?

Twenty minutes later, Gideon followed Mabel to the kitchen, where he ate breakfast with her and her fake family. Everyone was cheerful — everyone except Gideon. They asked him concerned questions, but he deflected them and ate silently.

After breakfast, a knock sounded on the door. “Oh, that’s Charles,” Mabel said to her family. “He’s going to take me back to the brownie village. There are still some places there that he wants to show me.”

“Okay. Be back by dinner,” her mom said.

What? Charles, again? Gideon closed his eyes and moaned quietly.

“Do you want to come with us again, Gideon?” asked Mabel. “I understand if you don’t, since it was kinda boring for you.”

“I’d love to come,” Gideon said.

“Even though you just sat there the whole time?”

He considered this. If he didn’t want to let Mabel out of his sight, then maybe he needed some kind of excuse. Clearly, the true reason — that he didn’t trust this fake world, that he didn’t want Mabel disappearing on him — wouldn’t get through Mabel’s head. So, instead, “When Charles created me, he was thinking about how he wanted to spend time with you that day. I guess that thought transferred to me, because. . . I don’t want to leave your side.” He threw in an embarrassed smile. Would that lame excuse work?

Apparently it did. “That’s so sweet,” Mabel’s dad said.

Mabel nodded in agreement, smiling at Gideon. “In that case, you’re welcome to come wherever I go,” she said. “I don’t mind.”

Gideon forced a smile, trying not to think about how unnatural this all was. Surely Mabel’s real father wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about a boy following his daughter around. On that note, neither would Mabel. She liked her alone time; she’d be stressed thinking about how someone was always near her. When she and Gideon were together at the Museum, they didn’t spend _all_ their time together, since both of them liked being alone for at least part of the day. But here, it seemed Mabel spent all day with Charles when he came around.

His brain caught hold of that thought. Maybe. . . maybe she was spending all day with Charles because they were a couple. Maybe she had feelings for Gideon the way he did for her.

No. Stop it, Gideon. Even if she did have feelings for him, he didn’t come here for that. He had to stay focused.

Mabel got up to let Charles in. Dipper followed her. “Mabel, do you think I can come with you this time?” he asked. “I’d love to see the brownie village.”

“Sure!” said Mabel. “Charles said he can only shrink two people at once, though, so we’ll have to take turns.”

She opened the door, and Charles came in. He seemed annoyed to see Gideon still there, but Mabel explained that Gideon and Dipper were coming with them.

Melody made lunches for all of them. Then they went outside, and Charles levitated himself and Mabel. “I’ll come back for you, Dipper,” he said.

Gideon flew after Mabel and Charles. So Charles could only levitate two people at a time? That was good to know. It was still one too many people, compared to the real amulet, but at least he couldn’t levitate a whole room of people at once. Plus, if Charles had to go back to get Dipper, then Gideon would have a minute alone with Mabel.

They landed near the brownie village, and a few little people appeared at the gates and waved. Mabel grinned and waved back.

“I’ll go get Dipper,” Charles said, and he jumped back into the air and flew away.

Perfect. “Mabel,” said Gideon.

Mabel was still smiling at the brownies.

“Mabel,” he said again. “Can we talk?”

She turned to him. “Of course,” she said.

“This world isn’t real,” Gideon said. “You’re a prisoner here. You haven’t been listening to me”—even now, her eyes were starting to look unfocused—“but I have proof. I have something to show you.”

He sat on the ground and pulled off his pack, and Mabel sat across from him. “What is it?” she asked. Her tone was that of someone about to see a nice surprise, not someone who had just been told she was a prisoner.

Gideon bit back a frustrated growl and pulled Mabel’s sketchbook from his pack. “This,” he said. “I have your sketchbook from the real world. It has pictures you drew.” He opened the sketchbook and turned to a page with a dark sketch that showed Dipper kneeling over a dead Mabel, with Pacifica lurking in the background. It was a gruesome drawing. Gideon’s eyes scanned Mabel’s face to see her reaction.

“Oh yeah, the fairy,” Mabel said. “I remember drawing that.”

Gideon frowned and looked back at the page. On one page was the sketch of Pacifica, but on the other was a drawing of a fairy. “No, not that one,” Gideon said, pointing. “This one.”

Mabel looked at the other page. “That’s creepy,” she said.

“Yes, it is.” Gideon felt as if he were trying to explain things to a young child. “You drew it after your first bad experience with Pacifica. Remember? Pacifica Pleasure?”

A sudden change came over Mabel’s face. Her open, curious look was now a hesitant, fearful one. She clutched at her right hand as if it were in pain.

“See?” Gideon said. “See, don’t you remember? Pacifica? I know it’s painful to remember, but you have to. Pacifica is the reason you’re trapped here. You have to remember. We have to get you out of here.”

For a moment, Mabel looked extremely sad and afraid, as if the weight of the world had just settled onto her shoulders. She stared at the picture.

Then she tore her eyes away. “Sorry,” she said, and her demeanor lightened. “That’s a character I created. But she started making me sad, so I guess I forgot about her.”

“No!” The word burst from Gideon, and Mabel blinked in surprise. “No, Mabel, you were so close! She’s not a character; she’s a real person; you have to remember!”

It was just like yesterday, when Gideon had mentioned the library and Mabel had flinched, only to deny it moments later. “I saw you,” Gideon insisted. “You grabbed your hand, where Pacifica stabbed you. The look on your face wasn’t sadness because of a character. It was the sadness and pain of your memories. Of your real experiences with Pacifica.”

Mabel shook her head. “I was just remembering when I sketched that picture. I was feeling pretty down. But now I’m not. Now I can be happy. So I don’t like thinking about it.”

Gideon studied her face. This was the closest she’d gotten to admitting that she ever felt sad. Was she saying that she chose to forget? That she chose to live in a world where everything was perfect?

No. He couldn’t believe that. It was the prison. It was the magic that was deceiving her.

“There’s Charles and Dipper,” Mabel said, pointing. Charles and Dipper appeared in the distance, flying towards them. That was the end of Gideon’s time alone with Mabel.

“Well, I’ll take Mabel in first,” Charles said once he and Dipper had landed. “You two wait out here. You can have a turn in a little while, Dipper.”

“Okay,” Dipper said cheerfully.

“See you in a bit,” Mabel said. She and Charles shrank and walked to the brownie village.

“So,” said Dipper conversationally, “what’s it like being a clone?”

Gideon stared at him. Were the two boys going to be out here alone for the entire time that Mabel and Charles were gone? Could Gideon maybe get information from this fake Dipper?

He may as well try. “Look,” he said, “I don’t know who or what you are, but you’re not fooling me. I need you to tell me what kind of magic is affecting Mabel’s mind and how to combat it. Got that?”

Dipper looked at him in confusion.

Then he disappeared.

Gideon stuck out a hand to where Dipper had been a moment before, but felt nothing. He looked to the brownie village and realized he could no longer see Mabel. She and Charles must have just gone around a corner. And because Dipper only existed when Mabel was there to see him, he had disappeared.

Gideon was left alone to stew in his frustration.

He put Mabel’s sketchbook away in his pack and lay down on the grass. Then he let out a guttural scream.


	6. Chapter 6

For the next three days, Gideon followed Mabel around and tried to get her to listen to him. And in those three days, nothing seemed to work. He told her over and over again that she was dying; he showed her more sad or scary pictures in her sketchbook; he invited her to go to the library with him. But she never heard him when he told her the truth; she dismissed the negative pictures as relics from a past time of hardship; she turned down his offers to go to the library. She was too busy with the brownie village, she said.

At first, Mabel and Charles (and Dipper that one time) had only gone to the brownie village to sightsee. The tiny people had beautiful pottery, Mabel said, and impressive architecture. But then the leaders of the brownie village had approached Mabel and Charles and asked for their help. They wanted their opinions on social conflicts within the village, since their outsider viewpoints would offer neutral suggestions. They also asked for their help with matters of charity, and Mabel started bringing food from the Museum for them. Because of the size difference, a single apple could be chopped up and distributed generously to the brownies.

With Mabel spending most of her time in the brownie village, Gideon had nothing to do. But his mind stayed active as he thought about what he could do to get Mabel out of here. Talking to her bluntly didn’t work. Trying to lure her away to the library didn’t work: Twice he told her he had a surprise for her, and twice she’d been distracted by Charles taking her to the brownies or Dipper wanting to play a game with her. Even kidnapping her didn’t work: She never actually slept, so Gideon couldn’t levitate her out of the moon while she was asleep; and Charles was always with her when she shrank down to brownie size. Once, Gideon had picked her up and tried to run away with tiny Mabel in his hand, but Charles had grown to normal size, pointed at Mabel, and turned _her_ back to normal size, too. Gideon ended up on the ground with an aching hand and a confused Mabel on top of him.

He tried to corner the fake people and interrogate them, but they were only there when Mabel was, and they completely ignored Gideon when he asked them questions or threatened them. Mabel seemed to have endless social energy, and she got distracted easily, especially when Gideon tried to talk to her about the prison or the real world. He never got her attention for more than a minute.

Since Mabel’s attention was rarely on Gideon, it gave him a chance to watch her and see what her perfect world was like. Her whole family clearly loved her and was interested in what she had to say to them. One evening, she spent hours talking to Ford and Lincoln (or Lee, as everybody called him here; the name “Blind Lincoln” didn’t seem to exist in Mabel’s perfect world). Ford was fascinated by her observations of the brownies, and Lee told funny stories about past experiences he and Ford had with brownies while adventuring. Mabel’s parents came in and out of the room to listen to Lee’s stories or smile fondly at Mabel and Ford.

But while Mabel loved her family, she spent much of her time with Charles. Gideon wondered if they’d been spending this much time together the whole time Mabel had been imprisoned, or if it was just because of the excitement in the brownie village. Could Mabel’s perfect world really involve so much time with Gideon?

Despite his frustration, Gideon’s heart lifted when he thought of that. Mabel really did like him. She liked spending time with him.

Gideon tried to keep his thoughts on his mission to save Mabel, but after he’d thought through his (failed) plans so many times, his brain wanted something else to focus on. So it turned to his theory — that Mabel and Charles were a couple — and looked for evidence to support it. Gideon had a crush on Mabel — he’d admitted it to himself, and he’d even admitted it to Dipper when they were at the Northwest Manor. But did Mabel feel the same about Gideon? She obviously liked him as a friend, but. . . was there more? Gideon watched Mabel and Charles closely, looking for a loving look in their eyes or even a kiss. Any sign that they were something more than friends.

He didn’t see anything.

They seemed to be friends. Good friends. But just friends. The more Gideon watched, the more he came to that conclusion. Mabel’s perfect world meant that Gideon was her friend, not her boyfriend.

The realization made him sadder than he’d expected.

Gideon berated himself for feeling disappointed. You’re here to rescue Mabel, not to wallow in your own feelings! You don’t have time to feel sorry for yourself! He tried to stay focused. Come up with a new plan. Figure out a way to get Mabel out of here.

But sometimes, his mind wandered, and he got caught up thinking about his crush and wondering if he could still have a chance with Mabel. When he got really distracted, he even imagined kissing her. . . . What would _that_ be like?

No. Don’t think about that. Focus.

Time was running out. Gideon could feel it. He didn’t know how long Mabel had left, but surely she didn’t have long. There was no time for anything but helping her escape.

On his fifth morning in the illusory world, Gideon sat on the porch and watched the evening sky flip to morning. It happened in an instant, just as it had the other mornings, and Gideon’s energy was suddenly replenished. Gideon wondered, not for the first time, how time in this world matched up to time in the real world. Each day was, as far as he could tell, exactly sixteen hours long. Mabel went to bed at the same time each night and got up at the same time each morning, and the eight hours when she was supposed to be sleeping were simply skipped. Did that mean there were three days in this world to every two days in the real world? That’d make the most sense, although there was no way for Gideon to really know.

It didn’t really matter. What mattered was getting out. Gideon got to his feet and went inside, hoping to catch Mabel before her family distracted her. “Mabel?” he called up the stairs.

“Give me a minute!”

Gideon waited. Mabel came down the stairs, wearing jeans and a yellow shirt with a daisy on it. “Good morning,” she said.

“Can we go to the library today?” asked Gideon.

Mabel shook her head apologetically. “Charles and I are making pottery with the brownies today.”

“Can’t you do that another day?” Gideon asked, already struggling to keep a hold on his temper.

Mabel hesitated. “Well. . . I want to do it today.”

“But you don’t have to.”

“I’m supposed to bring more food for them, too.”

“Give it to Charles, and he can take it to them,” said Gideon, knowing perfectly well that neither Charles nor the brownies would exist to give or take food if Mabel wasn’t with them.

“Well. . .”

“Trust me, Mabel,” said Gideon, “you’ll want to see what I have to show you.”

Her interest was piqued by that. “Really? You have a surprise?” she asked.

“Yes, and you’ll love it.” You’ll love being back home with your real family, he thought.

“I. . . I don’t know. Charles will be disappointed.”

Who cares about Charles?! Gideon wanted to yell. But he didn’t. “He’ll be fine. You and he can make pottery with the brownies another day.”

This was a lie, since Gideon couldn’t shrink people with his amulet in the real world. And he didn’t know if real-life brownies made pottery. But it seemed a small fib compared to saving Mabel’s life.

“I guess. . .”

It seemed he was about to convince her. “Please?” he asked, smiling softly at her, although he actually felt like tearing his hair out at how long this was taking.

Before she could answer, someone knocked on the door.

Gideon couldn’t stop the frustrated growl that rose from his throat. He and Mabel looked through the window to see Charles standing on the porch. “Don’t open that,” Gideon said immediately.

“Why not? It’s rude to—”

“Don’t open it,” he repeated forcefully. “I need to talk to you, and Charles doesn’t get to interrupt.”

“Let me in, clone,” Charles called through the door.

“I’m not—” Gideon took a deep breath. As he did so, Mabel moved to the door. He quickly said, “Wait! Please, Mabel. Tell me you’ll go to the library with me.”

“We should ask Charles what he thinks,” Mabel said, and she opened the door.

Charles came in. “Go to the library?” he asked, having heard what Gideon said. “Why would you go to the library? I thought we were going to the brownie village again.”

“Well, Gideon invited me to go to the library with him,” Mabel said, “and he really wants to go today. Right, Gideon?”

No answer.

Mabel turned and saw his face. “Gideon?” she asked in alarm.

Gideon didn’t look at her. He was staring at Charles in horror. His face was hot; his limbs felt heavy; his ears seemed filled with water.

“Gideon, what’s wrong?”

“What’s up with you?” said Charles, looking offended. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Gideon couldn’t speak. A small part of his brain knew he was overreacting, knew he shouldn’t be in shock over something so trivial, but—

Charles was wearing short sleeves. He had worn long sleeves the entire time Gideon was in Mabel’s moon, but today he wore short sleeves.

The skin on his bare arms was smooth.

“Your arms,” Gideon choked out. “Your — your arms.”

Why couldn’t he talk?

Charles looked down at his arms, confused. “What about them?”

“You’re wearing short sleeves,” Gideon said thickly.

“So? We’re making pottery today, genius. I didn’t want to get clay all over my other shirts.”

“But you can’t — you can’t—”

“Can’t what? Can’t wear short sleeves? I can wear whatever I—”

“No!” Gideon cried. “No, your arms should — you can’t — that’s not real!”

He knew he was losing it. But he couldn’t stop himself.

Charles folded his arms. His smooth, healthy, scarless arms. “Is that what this is about? Look. I’m the real Gideon. Got that? You don’t get to tell me I’m not real. You’re just a clone.”

And Gideon snapped.

“ _You’re not real!_ ” he screamed. Mabel jumped back at the force of his voice. “You can’t be real! You’re not real, this world isn’t real, and this perfect life isn’t real!” He was screaming at Charles, but also at Mabel. Both were too shocked to respond. “The _real_ life is awful sometimes, and people get hurt, and — and—”

His voice cut off. His emotions throbbed in his head, and his throat rumbled with words unsaid and pain unseen.

“Gideon,” Mabel said carefully, “what is it? What’s wrong?”

“What’s _wrong_?” His voice was too loud. “What’s _wrong_ is that you’re _trapped_ in here and you’re _dying_ and you won’t even listen to me for _one second_ to tell you about it! I’m trying to get you out of here and you _won’t listen_! Instead you go off with Charles because he can levitate two people at a time and he can shrink you and he has bare arms—”

“What on earth do you have against my arms?” Charles demanded, looking utterly bewildered but angry all the same.

“Because my arms don’t look like that!” Gideon shouted. “Because you’re not real! Because _this_ is what’s real!”

He hardly knew what he was doing, but he yanked his sleeve up his right arm. He frantically undid the button and shoved the cloth away, revealing the network of scars beneath.

Mabel gasped.

A shudder went through Gideon as he looked at his scars, but he wrenched his gaze away from them and back at Mabel. “Oh, so that’s what you see, is it?” he said. “You don’t see reminders of your own past, but you’ll look at poor Gideon’s scars?”

She flinched. “Gideon, I—”

“This is real,” he said, holding up his arm. It had been about two weeks since he’d gotten any new scars, so there weren’t any angry red ones, only shiny pink ones and faded white ones, all of them tangled in a painful pattern. “These scars are real. You can’t just forget the real world and live in this paradise, Mabel, because it’s _not real_.”

“Don’t talk to her that way,” Charles snapped. “She doesn’t deserve to be yelled at.”

Gideon knew that, but he didn’t care at the moment. Seeing Charles with no scars — seeing the dream he’d had for years, the dream he knew he could never have in real life — it was too much. He couldn’t handle one more second of this fake world and its fake promises. He had scars, and they hurt, and he had to accept them, or the pain would tear him apart, and—

He squeezed his eyes shut to stop that train of thought. “Mabel,” he said, his voice much softer, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. But — please — please, you have to come with me. We have to get you out of here. I don’t know how much longer you have left.”

Mabel stared at him. For the first time, she actually seemed to hear him.

“Just because he’s being dramatic doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth,” Charles said, annoyed. “Mabel, let’s leave this idiot and go have a nice day with the brownies.”

Mabel looked between Gideon and Charles. Her face was horrified. Her entire body was tense.

“Please come with me,” Gideon said.

Mabel didn’t answer. Instead, she threw open the door and fled from the Museum.


	7. Chapter 7

Gideon and Charles watched Mabel run away from the Museum and disappear into the trees.

“Well,” Charles said sarcastically, “congratulations. That worked really well. Now she’ll definitely want to go with you.”

“Shut up,” Gideon snapped. Then he frowned. “Wait. What are you still doing here?”

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Good question.”

Gideon looked at him warily. The fake people in this prison had always disappeared as soon as Mabel left them. So why hadn’t Charles? And what was that mocking look on his face?

“What are you?” Gideon asked.

“Also a good question. I’ve been watching you through Mabel’s eyes since you came. It’s hard to adapt to having another person in here, I’ll admit. You’ve kept me on my toes.”

Gideon’s eyes narrowed at this cryptic message. “Are you some kind of prison warden?”

“Close,” Charles said. He wasn’t talking like himself anymore, and he stood stiffly, as if he didn’t quite know how to carry himself. “More like I _am_ the prison. I’m using this body to speak to you.”

“An honor, I’m sure,” Gideon said dryly. Despite his callous tone, he felt an immediate sense of foreboding. Supernatural creatures, ghosts — he could deal with those. But a magical force appearing as a person to talk to him? No, thank you.

“You won’t take Mabel away from here,” the prison said through Charles. “She’s mine.”

“She’s _not_ yours,” Gideon said. “Can’t you see what you’re doing? You’re helping Bill! You’re killing someone!”

“That is what I was created to do, yes,” was the reply.

Gideon frowned. “But you were created by the ancients, weren’t you? They fought against Bill. They captured him.”

“Correct on all counts,” said the prison. “And they knew that Bill was too powerful to trap indefinitely. They wove a powerful prison that trapped him, but they had to leave him a way to escape, or else their magic would have unraveled. It’s part of why he’s so dangerous: If the prison is too easy to escape, then he gets out very quickly. But if the prison is impossible to escape, it can’t hold Bill at all.”

Right. Gideon had read about that once in the Order library, and he thought it was dumb that Bill could simply dissolve his impenetrable prisons. Stupid overpowered demon. “So you’re part of the magic that would let him escape,” he said. “But the ancients still created you.”

“Yes. They had to.”

Gideon didn’t think they had to create magic that would kill. But maybe they did. Maybe it made the prison stronger somehow. There were lots of different kinds of magic in the multiverse — and concentrated in Gravity Rises specifically — and it annoyed Gideon that he didn’t understand most of them.

“The point,” the prison said, “is that I will keep Mabel imprisoned. I will drain her of her life. And you will not get in the way.”

“I’m going to get in the way,” Gideon shot back. “In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find Mabel.”

Charles placed himself between Gideon and the door. “I won’t let her go. She’s been here twelve days — according to the time in this world — and she has three days left before she dies. I can’t let her leave when I’m so close.” He gave Gideon a significant look. “But I’ll give _you_ the chance to leave. Take it.”

Gideon scoffed at the offer. “I’m not leaving without Mabel.”

He tried to push past Charles, but Charles shoved him away and said, “You’ll be a lot happier if you do. Leave, and wait your turn, and you’ll have your own perfect world. It’s a great way to die, honestly. At least, I imagine it is.”

“You’re crazy,” Gideon said through clenched teeth.

“I’m doing my job,” the prison corrected him. “Why fight it? You don’t have to have scars in your perfect world. You can even be with your sister again.”

Gideon stiffened. “What do you know about her?”

“Only what Mabel knows about her. But I think you miss her. You want to see her again.”

“Stop!” Gideon yelled. “I’m _not_ going to let my friend die in a fake world, and I’m _not_ going to have my own fake world. Get out of my way!”

Charles smiled. “But Gideon,” he said, “a fake world is your only chance of seeing Everly again. Don’t you want to take that chance?”

That was too far. Gideon screamed and ran at Charles, ready to shove him against the wall and bash his head in.

But Charles disappeared before he could touch him. Gideon was left alone.

~~~~~

Mabel ran through the forest, not paying attention to where she was going. She didn’t get very far before she tripped and fell to the ground. It didn’t hurt, but it knocked the wind out of her, and she braced herself on her hands and knees to catch her breath.

She didn’t want to run anymore. Too much effort. She dragged herself over to a tree trunk and sat against it, drawing her knees to her chest and lowering her head.

Then she started crying. She didn’t know why. She felt so confused. One moment, she was happy, ready to have another fun day in the forest. The next, she was horrified. The sight of Gideon’s scars had been a lance in her brain, piercing the haze of happiness and unearthing the swamp of sadness and pain. This sudden sadness was overwhelming, but she didn’t understand it. Where was it coming from? What was she thinking about that would cause these emotions? She had no idea.

She was so afraid. Afraid of Pacifica. Afraid of Bill. But wasn’t Pacifica just a character? And who was Bill? She also missed her family. But that made no sense — her family was here. With her. How could she miss them?

Her right hand suddenly flared with pain. She gasped and grabbed her wrist, staring at her hand. It looked normal. So why did she feel like she had just been stabbed?

She was so confused.

Gideon had told her that her world wasn’t real. He’d been trying to tell her for four days, she realized. But she hadn’t heard.

Or maybe she just hadn’t listened. She had been so happy. . . .

All happiness was gone now, though. All Mabel had was the confusing sadness, the image of Gideon’s scars in her mind’s eye, and the pain in her hand.

Her world was fake. Was her world fake? She didn’t want to believe it. Everyone she loved was here: Dipper, her parents, her great uncles, her friends. Things were wonderful. And it all felt real, too. What could make her think it wasn’t?

Gideon. Gideon and his scars and his claims that she was dying—

Dying. She wasn’t dying. She didn’t feel like she was dying. In fact, she didn’t remember the last time she had felt any pain more than an annoying scratch or sliver. Her hand was aching now, but that wasn’t dying. Right?

She took a shaky breath, then lifted her head and looked around. The grass beneath her, the trees and happy animal sounds around her, the blue summer sky above her. . . This was real, wasn’t it? It had to be.

“Mabel?”

It was Gideon’s voice, but Mabel didn’t know which Gideon it was. She didn’t know which one she wanted. She decided not to say anything; maybe he wouldn’t find her.

“There you are,” he said, walking up to her. It was Charles, with his normal t-shirt and his smooth arms.

Mabel didn’t say anything. Part of her felt disappointed, even repulsed, when she saw Charles; but another part of her wanted him to come and make everything normal again.

Charles sat beside her. “I’m sorry about my clone,” he said softly. “That was really mean of him. Are you going to be okay?”

Mabel didn’t look at him. “His scars,” she whispered. “They remind me of something. . . .”

“A nightmare you had, maybe?” asked Charles.

Mabel frowned. “No. I. . . I don’t remember any of my dreams from the past few weeks, actually.”

Now that she realized this, it was very strange. She was a vivid dreamer, both with pleasant dreams and with nightmares. But she couldn’t remember any of her recent dreams.

“I don’t know what his goal is,” Charles said, “but he obviously wants you to be confused and scared.”

“He said what his goal was,” Mabel whispered. “He wants to get me out of here.”

“Out of here?” said Charles. “Out of where? I don’t know why he would tell you that your world isn’t real, Mabel, but he’s lying. He’s obviously lying. I mean, look around you. This place is real.”

A robin flitted down to the ground, landing a few yards from Mabel. It hopped around for a bit, then snatched a bug from the dirt and took off again.

“It’s beautiful here,” Mabel said. “It. . . feels real.”

But. . . but if Gideon was telling the truth. . .

Suddenly, Mabel felt claustrophobic, as if the open summer air were pressing in on her. “I — I want to be alone right now,” she told Charles, still not looking at him.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said, a bit sharper than she meant to.

In her periphery, she saw him put his hands up. “Okay.” He got to his feet. “If you feel better, and you still want to go to the brownie village, then we can. Just come find me.”

She stared at the grass. The thought of going to the brownie village, of having a fun, magical day with nothing to worry about. . . After the events of the past half hour, that idea felt alien to her.

Charles left. She was alone again. She didn’t want to be alone. Or maybe she did.

The sun shone in dappled light through the trees. Mabel felt a little better out in nature, but she also felt worse, because now she had a pervasive thought that maybe, just maybe, this forest wasn’t real. But if it wasn’t, then what was the real world like? Mabel couldn’t think of any other Gravity Rises than this one.

She lay on her back and watched the leaves above her dance in the summer breeze. Her face felt stiff with dried tears. She didn’t _want_ this world to be fake.

“Mabel?” called another voice.

She stiffened just a bit. It was the same voice — did that mean it was Gideon this time? She wanted to see him even less. Even more, actually. She didn’t know.

“Mabel, I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Gideon was nearby, but he didn’t seem to know where she was. “Can I talk to you? Please?”

She didn’t move. If she just lay here and did nothing, there was a chance he would pass her by without finding her.

But maybe he could give her answers. Maybe he could tell her why she was so confused. Why her hand hurt. The pain had been fading in and out — it had almost disappeared entirely when she had been talking to Charles — but it was back now. She gave a quiet moan as it flared.

“Mabel?” Gideon seemed to have heard the moan, and he was coming her direction now.

The pain subsided a bit. “Over here,” Mabel whispered. It was quiet, but he was close. She could hear his footsteps.

He appeared in her periphery, looking down at her. “Hey,” he said.

She sat up but didn’t look at him. “Hi,” she whispered.

He came and sat beside her, but not as close as Charles had. She appreciated that. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he repeated.

“Thanks.” She glanced at his arms. He’d pulled his sleeve back down; she couldn’t see any scars.

“They’re real,” Gideon said, catching the glance. “They. . . my father leaves them.”

Something flashed through Mabel’s mind. A man with brown hair and a trim mustache, looking disdainfully down at her. Mabel, wearing a black dress, yelling up at him that he was the worst father ever.

Where did that come from?

“Or the servants,” Gideon added. “They’re all in on it. They help.”

Another image, this time of Mabel — still in that black dress — running away from a man down thickly carpeted halls. Then another image of a different man standing on the Museum porch, placing a suitcase inside.

Mabel shook the confusing images from her mind. “Why would they do that?” she whispered.

She glanced up at his face and saw his uncomfortable expression. “N-never mind,” she said, looking away.

“It’s a fair question.” But he didn’t answer it.

They were silent for a minute. Then, in a rush, Mabel said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She didn’t know why she said it. Why would Gideon tell her about this? But. . . she still felt a tiny bit betrayed, somehow.

Gideon looked as uncertain as she felt. “What do you mean by that?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t know.” She buried her face in her hands. More images slipped through her mind: Gideon, sitting in the dark with his amulet lighting up his face, looking up at a portrait on the wall. Mabel and Gideon together, looking down at the sketch of a flower in the Journal.

“Well,” Gideon said slowly, “if you want to know why I didn’t tell you in the past four days, it was because I wasn’t thinking about it. I was focused on trying to get you out of here, and I didn’t really think about my. . . my scars. . . until this morning.”

Mabel was quiet. That wasn’t what she meant. She didn’t know what she meant, but it wasn’t that.

“If you want to know why I didn’t tell you in the real world. . .” Gideon hesitated. “I was afraid. Afraid you’d look at me differently. Like someone to be pitied.”

Mabel was quiet. Was that what she had meant? Maybe it was. “The flower,” she said, not sure what she was saying. “The flower — that could take away the pain — I didn’t realize—”

“The Northwest’s Relief? You remember that?” His eyes were hopeful.

“I. . . I don’t know,” she said again.

“Try to remember,” he said. “This place took away your memories, Mabel, but it can’t have erased them completely. You can remember if you try.”

It didn’t feel like she could. She just had random images and words she didn’t mean to say. Those didn’t seem like memories.

“Here,” Gideon said. “Let’s look at your sketchbook again. You didn’t seem to remember last time, but maybe you will now.” He pulled the book out of his backpack.

Mabel felt a rush of fear. “N-no,” she said.

Gideon paused. “Why not?”

“T-too painful.”

He sighed. “I know. This whole thing is painful. The last few weeks in the real world. . . have been pretty scary. There’s part of me that honestly can’t blame you for wanting to live in this world. But it’s killing you, Mabel.”

The words that had glanced off Mabel’s ears the past few days now bored into her skull. “I don’t — feel like I’m dying,” she said pathetically.

“You are. You only have three days left.” He opened the sketchbook. “The world we’re going back to isn’t a happy one, not right now, but it’s the real one. It’s where your real family and friends are. We have to get back to it.”

Gideon flipped through the pages, pointing to pictures of Dipper, Ford, and others. Mabel looked hard at the pictures. When Gideon stopped on a picture of Lee, Mabel inhaled sharply. “Grunkle Lee. . . is captive,” she said.

“Yes. He was at the minotaur village, but now he’s at the Northwest Manor, possessed by Bill.”

Mabel shivered all over. “Who’s Bill?” she whispered, not wanting to know the answer.

As she asked the question, she got answers from her own mind. A glowing yellow triangle, staring down at her with a single eye. Her own body with bright yellow eyes and a demonic smile. Grunkle Lee, also with yellow eyes.

“Bill Cipher. He’s the reason you’re in here,” Gideon said. “He wants you and me and eight other people to die so he can escape Gravity Rises and wreak havoc on the multiverse. Can you remember him?”

Mabel squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t remember much more than those images of Bill, but her emotions obviously remembered him. The fear and pain that overcame her was the most she’d felt yet.

With the mental pain, the physical pain in her hand spiked. She let out a hiss and clutched her hand.

“Pacifica stabbed you in the hand,” Gideon said softly, “with a magical dagger that started this whole fake world. That’s why your hand hurts. When we get out of here, I can take you to the hamadryads, and they’ll be able to heal you.”

Mabel looked at her hand, and suddenly she could see a dagger sticking out of it, with blood pouring from the wound. She cried out, but then the image was gone. “What — what was that?”

“What was what?”

“My hand. Did you see the blood?”

Gideon shook his head. “I don’t see blood right now. But it’ll be there when we leave.”

“I just — I just saw—” She glanced back down, and this time she didn’t see the knife or the pouring blood. Instead there was a haze of blood, floating around her hand as if in null gravity. Then that image, too, disappeared.

Null gravity. . .

She remembered being terrified as gravity changed. As food splattered onto the ceiling. As Dipper fell from his bed on top of her.

“Dipper,” she gasped. Her thoughts were going everywhere. “Dipper — he — he tried to keep me on the ground — but the dark blue glow — it pushed him away.”

“Yes,” Gideon said. “Yes, that’s what happened. Right before you came here.” His voice sounded encouraging, hopeful, even excited, but it was undercut by sadness. “We were with you in the Hall of Mysteries, thinking it was the safest place for you — well, the basement was safest, but Ford wasn’t there to open the vending machine. Anyway, we were all in there, and Pacifica phased through the wall somehow, then grabbed you and phased back out again. Do you remember that?”

Mabel shuddered again as it came back: The memory of Pacifica appearing from the wall, rushing forward, grabbing Mabel’s wrist, and pulling her away from her family. The terrifying feeling of passing through the walls of the Museum, as if Mabel were a ghost all over again, just as she had been when Bill had possessed her.

“I think I do,” she whispered. She wished she didn’t.

Gideon flipped to a detailed drawing of Fiddleford. “What about Fidds? Do you remember him? Do you remember what he did to your uncles?”

Mabel frowned at the picture. Of course she remembered Fidds. He came by every few days to visit Mabel’s uncles. But he didn’t _do_ anything to them. Certainly nothing bad.

More memories came into her head. Fiddleford, lying unconscious on Ford’s bed, his white beard so long it trailed onto the floor. Lee, sitting on the couch, in deep discussion with Ford. Mabel and Dipper, outside Ford’s door, listening as Fidds told his story. The Pines family in a group hug, with Lee’s tears falling into Mabel’s hair.

“Kids, I. . . I have amnesia,” she remembered Lee saying. Then she remembered the sad expression that rested constantly on Fidds’ face. He. . . he had done it. He had destroyed Lee’s memory thirty years ago. He regretted it more than Mabel had seen anyone regret anything.

“I remember,” she said. “How could I forget that?”

“The moon’s magic was blocking your memories,” said Gideon. “But somehow you got past that.”

“Moon?”

Gideon nodded. “This world is enclosed in a blue sphere that’s hovering over the forest like our own personal moon.”

Mabel tried to visualize that, and she kind of could, but her brain rejected it. There was nothing strange going on in this forest. It was normal. That’s what she wanted to believe.

But she couldn’t. Not anymore.

How _had_ she gotten past the magic, if it truly had been blocking her memories? Mabel remembered Gideon’s words — “You’re a prisoner here,” “I’m upset because you’re dying,” and so on — and how they had never registered in her mind. But now they did. What had changed?

Her mind pulled up the image of Gideon’s scars. That’s what had changed. He had shown her his scars. Shown her the evil imprinted on his own body.

“Can I see them again?” she asked quietly.

It was a question out of nowhere, at least from Gideon’s perspective, but he still seemed to instantly know what she meant. He shied back. “I. . . I’m not sure.”

“That’s what helped me get past the block,” Mabel said. “You. Your — your scars. Showing me. . . woke me up. And I. . .” She paused, trying to figure out how to put her thoughts into words. “I want to make sure I’m still awake.”

“I’m not my scars,” Gideon said quietly, defiantly.

“Of course not,” Mabel said. “I just. . . Never mind. You don’t have to show me.”

Gideon took a deep breath. “No. It’s. . . it’s okay.” His tone didn’t say it was okay, but he slowly undid the button on his wrist and rolled his sleeve up his arm.

Mabel sucked in a breath as Gideon slowly let one out. They both stared at the scars on his arm. “These are — all over?” Mabel asked.

“Pretty much. It’s why. . . why I wear long sleeves all the time. Remember the first night I stayed at the Museum — the night Lee was there — and how I borrowed some of Dipper’s pajamas?”

Mabel furrowed her brow. An image came back of Dipper giving Gideon the only pair of long-sleeved pajamas he owned. “That’s why you asked for long sleeves,” she said.

“Right.”

They fell silent. Mabel’s eyes traced the haphazard pattern of Gideon’s scars through her own haphazard thoughts. She remembered what she’d learned about Gideon’s abusive situation, but she knew she’d never seen these scars before. Why hadn’t she realized they would be here? Even when she’d learned about the Northwest’s Relief, she hadn’t realized Gideon wanted to use it to get rid of years’ worth of scars.

“Can I. . .” She reached out a tentative hand. Gideon flinched, and she stopped. “Sorry.”

Gideon took a slow, deep breath. “Okay,” he said. He moved his arm back so Mabel could touch it.

Her fingers brushed the ridges in his skin. He shuddered at her touch.

They were real. Feeling them beneath her fingers was Mabel’s final proof that the scars were real. And she had her memories back of learning about the abuse. She couldn’t doubt it anymore: This was the real Gideon.

“I’m sorry,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I should’ve realized. I should’ve helped you.”

“It’s okay,” Gideon said. “Staying with your family has been the best help.” He pulled his sleeve back down and buttoned the cuff, taking a quiet breath of relief as he did so.

“So what now?” Mabel asked.

“Now,” Gideon said, sounding grateful to get on another topic, “we go to the library. That’s where the exit from this world is: on the back side of the library.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Why does that make me so scared?” she asked.

“Because in the real world, that’s where the entrance is to the Order of the Crescent Eye. But here, it’s our escape route.”

The phrase “the Order of the Crescent Eye” brought back another slew of memories: Pacifica dragging a handcuffed Mabel around the Order library. Pacifica holding a knife to Mabel’s neck. Pacifica pointing the memory gun at Ford and Mabel. And, finally, Gideon telling Ford and Mabel that Lee had been in Gravity Rises the whole time, hiding under the town, leading the Order.

“Oh,” she said quietly, “right.”

Gideon put the sketchbook back in his pack, then got to his feet and held out a hand to Mabel, who took it and stood up. “Are you ready to go, Mabel?” he asked.

The question scared her, but Mabel knew what the right answer was. No matter how nice this world was, she didn’t want to die in it. “Yes,” she forced herself to say.

“Nice sentiment,” said a voice, “but you won’t be leaving, Mabel.”

Mabel turned around. Charles stepped into the clearing — but he didn’t look the same. Now, he was wearing the same outfit as Gideon, except it was ragged and torn. His skin had a greyish hue to it, his hair was smoky, and bright red scars were visible through the holes in his clothes. An eerie smile split his face.

“Leave her alone,” Gideon said. His voice was strained, his face pale, as he looked at Charles’ new appearance.

“I don’t think I will,” Charles said. He turned back to Mabel. “I’m sorry I left you, Mabel. I shouldn’t have. But I’m here now. I’ll save you from him. I’ll make sure you never see the real world again.”

He took a step forward, and Mabel and Gideon moved back. Gideon grabbed Mabel’s hand; he looked tense and ready to run.

Charles scowled at them. “So that’s how it’s going to be, hmm?” he said. “You won’t escape me, Mabel. This world has been a dream, but I can make it a nightmare.”

His amulet started to glow. Mabel and Gideon turned and ran.

~~~~~

Gideon pulled Mabel away from Charles. But before they could even make it three steps, Charles used his amulet magic to yank Mabel to him.

She cried out in surprise and fear as she flew through the air. Gideon turned and tried to levitate Mabel back with his own amulet, but it was too late. In a flash, Charles shank Mabel to the size of a brownie, and she landed in his hand. He stuffed her into a pocket and leapt into the air, flying away from Gideon.

Oh no you don’t. Gideon grabbed onto Charles with his magic. The blue glow around Charles grew bigger and brighter. Charles seemed to struggle for a moment.

Then he turned around and gave Gideon an unsettling grin. “I don’t have to play by your rules,” he said. “This is _my_ world.”

The blue glow grew brighter, then dimmer as Gideon’s magic failed. Charles flew away.

No! Gideon flew after him, trying to figure out what had just happened. Had Charles cancelled Gideon’s magic? The amulets couldn’t cancel each other out; Gideon and Pacifica had discovered that years ago. But this wasn’t the real world, and Charles wasn’t a real person. It seemed he could cancel Gideon’s magic if he wanted to.

Was this Charles, or was the prison using his body again? Or was it both? Gideon wondered this for a moment, but quickly decided that it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Charles had Mabel, and Gideon had to save her.

Even with Gideon flying as fast as he could, and willing himself to go faster, he couldn’t catch up. Charles flew over the forest; tiny Mabel was still in his pocket. Gideon watched for her in case she fell out, but she didn’t.

Suddenly, Charles vanished.

Gideon came to a sudden stop in the air. No! Stupid Charles with his stupid disappearing act! Gideon scanned the sky around him, knowing it was futile. Where could he have gone? Could Gideon follow? Surely if Charles wasn’t limited to the rules of the real world, then neither was Gideon.

But try as he might, Gideon couldn’t teleport himself. Not even a little bit. He landed in the trees below him and tried to teleport, to shrink, to levitate two objects at a time. He couldn’t. Maybe he was too worked up to focus, but it seemed he _was_ limited to the rules of the real world.

“Augh!” he shouted. If he was in some sort of dream world, then why couldn’t he manipulate it? Was it because it was Mabel’s dream, not his? Or was the prison so different from dreams that it was a faulty comparison? But Charles _had_ called it a dream. . . a nightmare. . .

Focus, Gideon. He didn’t have time to muse about the nature of the prison and its fake world. He had a mission. He had to find Mabel.

He flew back into the sky, but he seemed to leave his hopes behind. Even if this world was just Gravity Rises and the forest, that was still a huge area. Gideon could think of plenty of places to look for Mabel — the Museum, the Northwest Manor, Ford’s bunker — but Charles wouldn’t have taken her anywhere obvious. Plus, there was no guarantee that every place in the real world was represented in this fake one.

Mabel could be anywhere. And in three days, she would die.

Three days seemed like a long time, but since they were only sixteen hours long, that gave Gideon only forty-eight hours to search the entire forest and find his friend. He couldn’t shake the fear that, no matter what he did, he would be too late.


	8. Chapter 8

**JANUARY 19, 2013**

It was early afternoon, but the sky gave no indication of the time. Dipper looked up at the starry sky, wondering what dimension they were in now. What kind of people and animals lived on its planets? Did they have any idea that the township was here, that it had a dangerous demon as its passenger?

He walked quietly through the snow, staying by the Museum. He was headed for the trees on the northwest corner of the property — the same trees he and Gideon had snuck through on Wednesday. It was Saturday now. Mabel had been in her prison for a week. Dipper clung to the hope that Gideon would save her, ignoring the small voice in his head that worried otherwise.

He soon made it to the trees. Inside the grove were his two peryton friends, Rowan and Marigold. They had gone into the trees about an hour ago, waiting for Dipper to join them. Hopefully, any Northwest servants or Order members who had seen the perytons hide in the trees either thought it was unimportant or had forgotten about it completely.

Mentally, Dipper sent the perytons a question: Are you ready? The perytons sent back a feeling in the affirmative. Dipper had been practicing silent, telepathic communication with the perytons for the past few days. He preferred speaking out loud — he liked noise — but the perytons’ magical form of communication was really cool. And helpful for sneaking away, which is what Dipper was trying to do now.

Rowan told Dipper that he would take him, and Marigold would stay here. Okay, Dipper thought, and he climbed onto Rowan’s back.

He didn’t expect to be gone long, but he had a backpack with snacks, a flashlight, knockout patches, and a stun gun. Melody was the only one who knew what he was doing; he hadn’t told Ford for fear of being stopped. Ford would probably think this was an unnecessary risk, but Dipper disagreed. This was very necessary.

Rowan moved quietly to the edge of the trees. The pathway to the gift shop was only a few feet away, and Rowan was going to use it as a runway. Dipper peered through the trees at the guard who stood on the path just outside the invisible barrier around the Museum. It seemed to be the same man as when he’d checked earlier: an Order member, not a servant. No gun.

Dipper silently told Rowan that there wasn’t a servant in sight, and the chance of being shot at was low. Of course, there was still a chance, which is what made this a risk. But Dipper had specifically waited for a time when there wasn’t a servant on the path to the gift shop.

All right, Rowan. Go.

Rowan burst from the trees, then turned and ran straight down the path. The Order member screamed and jumped out of the way when he saw a large winged deer running straight at him. It was a good thing he moved, for when Rowan jumped into the air, his front hooves passed through the spot where the man’s head had been.

Dipper felt his stomach drop as Rowan began his flight. Then they were in the air, climbing higher and higher. People were yelling below, and soon Dipper heard the crack of a gunshot. But by then, he and Rowan were too high to hit and too hard to see in the darkness.

Rowan banked and flew southeast, as Dipper had directed him to. Dipper had done his best to show Rowan a mental picture of the place they were going, and now he would help him find the right house.

“There it is,” Dipper whispered after a few minutes. Now that they were out of the Museum, he would rather talk out loud than try to communicate mentally. “Right there, see it?”

Rowan saw the house and headed to it, flying over the rift that ran down the town’s main road and landing in the house’s front yard. Dipper slipped off Rowan’s back. “Thanks,” he told the peryton with a smile. “I’ll go get Greyson.”

That was where they had landed: the house of Greyson Gray. Dipper was going to see his friend for the first time in almost four weeks.

Dipper ran up the front steps and knocked on the door. “Greyson!” he called. “Greyson, it’s me, Dipper!”

He kept knocking until someone opened the door. A man with a surprised look on his face stood behind it.

“Hi! Are you Greyson’s dad?” said Dipper. “I’m his friend Dipper.”

Greyson appeared behind his dad. His eyes were wide with surprise. “Dipper! What are you doing here? How—?”

“ _Greyson!_ ” At the sight of his friend, Dipper’s emotions took control. He leapt forward and threw his arms around him.

Greyson hugged him back, in shock at first, then with the strength of a long-lost friend. It had been four weeks since they’d seen each other, and it was the longest four weeks of Dipper’s _life_. Probably Greyson’s, too.

The hug lasted a long time, maybe a full minute. Dipper felt his emotions rise in his throat. His friend was safe. With his painful fear for Mabel, Dipper didn’t know if he could handle anyone else he cared about getting hurt.

Finally, the boys pulled apart. “How?” Greyson asked, his voice full of joyful wonder. “How are you here?”

“My friend Rowan,” Dipper said. He pointed to the peryton on the lawn. “He brought me here.”

Greyson’s eyes widened. He and his dad (who had been pushed out of the way when Dipper and Greyson had hugged) stared at the peryton. “What. . . ?” Greyson breathed.

Dipper realized that Greyson and his dad didn’t know about the supernatural — their memories of it had been taken by the Order. “This is Rowan,” Dipper said. “He’s a peryton. A winged deer.”

“Woah,” said Greyson.

“Arthur, who’s at the door?” said another voice. A woman, presumably Greyson’s mother, approached.

Dipper smiled at her. “Hi, Mrs. Gray, I’m Dipper. Greyson’s friend. I’m here to take him to visit Candy.”

Mrs. Gray frowned. “How would you. . . ?” Her voice trailed off as she noticed Rowan. Rowan spread his wings for the humans to see.

“There’s a lot of magical stuff in the woods,” Dipper said. “My peryton friend helps me fly over the rifts. Can Greyson come with me?”

Mr. and Mrs. Gray glanced at each other. “I’m. . . not sure,” Mr. Gray said.

“Please?” said Greyson. “I want to see Candy!”

Dipper had assumed that Greyson and Candy hadn’t seen each other since the rifts had formed, and it seemed he was right. “Where does she live?” he asked. He didn’t actually know.

“Just behind us,” said Greyson. “Our backyards touch. But there’s a rift right between them.”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen Candy out in her yard, and we’ve waved to each other across the rift, but we’re too far apart to talk.” Greyson glanced at his feet. “It’s been really lonely. To see someone but not be able to talk to them.”

Dipper glanced up at Mabel’s moon, which he could see a bit of behind the Grays’ house. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “I know how that feels.”

“But you can fly over to her, right?” said Greyson. “I mean — if—” His face turned pink. “If your peryton can hold me.”

“Yeah, of course he can! He can carry both of us,” Dipper said.

“Please, Mom and Dad?” Greyson asked.

His parents looked hesitant. “It’s safe?” Mr. Gray asked Dipper.

“Just like riding a horse,” Dipper said, “except Rowan is a lot smarter. He won’t let us get hurt.”

“And you’ll just be at Candy’s house?” said Mrs. Gray.

“Yep.” Dipper wondered if he should mention the fact that there was a minotaur at Candy’s house. A minotaur who was responsible for the rifts and the ever-changing sky of stars. But he didn’t want to give the Grays any reason to stop Greyson from going, so he didn’t say anything. He knew he should, but it’d take too long to explain.

“Well. . . okay,” Mrs. Gray said, with another glance at her husband.

He nodded. “Come back soon, okay? A few hours at the most.”

“Awesome! Thanks!” said Dipper. “C’mon, Greyson, let’s go!”

“Let me grab my coat,” Greyson said.

He disappeared into the house, and Mr. and Mrs. Gray looked at Rowan. “May I. . . go up to him?” Mr. Gray asked.

“Sure,” said Dipper. “You gotta bow to him first, and then he’ll approach. He can talk to you in your mind, through feelings and stuff, so don’t be surprised if that happens.”

Mr. Gray blinked at this piece of information, but he didn’t let it stop him. He went down the porch steps onto the front walk, then, with a self-conscious glance at Dipper, bowed to Rowan.

Rowan folded his wings and bowed back. He stepped forward so that Mr. Gray, who was barefoot, didn’t have to leave the concrete. Mr. Gray gently touched Rowan’s wing.

“Lisa,” he said in awe, “you should come over here.”

His wife glanced at his bare feet. “You’re going to get frostbite,” she said. But she came out anyway, shuddering as the cold seeped through her socks.

While Mr. and Mrs. Gray talked to Rowan, Dipper waited for Greyson on the porch. A minute later, Greyson came hurrying out in a coat and boots. “Let’s go,” he said excitedly.

Dipper led Greyson over to Rowan and instructed him to bow. Greyson did so, and Rowan sent a warm greeting that all of them could feel.

Mr. and Mrs. Gray stepped back, and Rowan came onto the concrete so it would be easier for Dipper and Greyson to mount. He leaned down so the boys could get on his back. Dipper let Greyson go first, then climbed on behind him.

“This is so cool,” Greyson whispered as Rowan stood.

Rowan asked Mr. and Mrs. Gray to give him space, and they went back to the porch. The peryton followed them to the steps, then turned, spread his wings, and ran down the concrete path. Greyson gasped as Rowan jumped into the air.

The flight wasn’t long at all. Rowan simply turned in a wide circle, and then they were over the house behind the Grays’. “Yep, it’s just right there,” Greyson said when Rowan asked if that was it.

“Wait, Rowan, can you just hover here for a minute?” Dipper asked. Rowan agreed, and Dipper put a hand on Greyson’s shoulder to get his attention. “There’s something else. It’s not just Candy and her mom at her house.”

“It’s not?” Greyson asked.

“There’s a minotaur there. There’s actually a whole village of minotaurs in the forest.”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, “I saw some last week. They were handing out supplies.”

“Right,” Dipper said. “I wanted to go help them, but they didn’t let me. Anyway, there’s a minotaur at Candy’s house. He’s her dad.”

Greyson looked over his shoulder, though he seemed too afraid of the height to turn all the way around. “What?”

“Candy’s dad is a minotaur,” said Dipper. “His name is Caleb, and he’s with the Chius right now.”

“No way,” Greyson said.

“Part of the reason I came is that I need to talk to him,” Dipper said. “Also that I really wanted to see you and Candy.”

Greyson was quiet for a long moment as he processed this. “Well. Okay then,” he finally said.

Dipper grinned. Greyson was reacting pretty well to all this magic stuff — just like he had with the Mabel clones on the day Dipper had met him. Dipper assumed the memories of that day had been largely wiped from Greyson’s mind by the Order, but it was good to know that he was still pretty chill about the supernatural. “Okay, Rowan, let’s go down there,” Dipper said.

Rowan flew down to the house. Dipper’s stomach turned over, with both the change in altitude and a sudden nervousness. Dipper was acting mainly on instinct right now, letting his desire to see his friend overrule any reservations he had about going to the Chiu house. But he _did_ have reservations. First off, Candy’s mom was a member of the Order. Was she safe to be around? Second, Caleb had basically started the apocalypse. Was Dipper crazy to approach him? And third, Dipper was a Symbol. Candy’s mom and Caleb may or may not know that, but if they did, they might want to hurt Dipper or stop him from going home.

Dipper had a sudden flash of what Ford looked like after he’d been tortured on Wednesday. Surely. . . surely nothing like that would happen here. Dipper would be careful, and he could get away on Rowan if he needed to.

Rowan landed near the porch. Dipper heard footsteps pounding through the house, and the door flew open. “Greyson! Dipper!” said Candy breathlessly.

“Candy!” Greyson said, climbing off of Rowan. He didn’t have the best balance, and he fell into the snow, but he popped up a moment later. “Did you see us from your room, Candy? I was flying!”

“I saw!” Candy said, grinning.

Dipper dismounted, and Rowan said he would wait out here for however long Dipper needed. “Thanks, Rowan,” Dipper said, patting his neck. Then he ran up to the porch with Greyson on his heels.

“Candy, what’s going on?” said a female voice. Candy’s mother, who looked almost exactly like her daughter, appeared at the door. “Who—?” Her voice broke off.

Dipper stopped. “Hi, Mrs. Chiu,” he said carefully. “Do you know who I am?”

Candy’s mom paused. “Most people call me Ms. Chiu,” she said absently, “or just Yingtai. But. . . I should start going by Mrs. Chiu. Don’t you think, Candy?”

Candy’s happy mood was gone in an instant. She folded her arms. “I guess,” she said sullenly.

Yingtai frowned at this, then turned back to Dipper. “You’re Dipper Pines, yes? Candy’s friend?”

“Yes,” Dipper said. He waited, wondering if she would add that he was a Symbol. Did she know?

If her hesitant expression meant anything, then she did. “And. . . why are you here?” she asked.

“To see my friend,” Dipper said. “And. . . and to talk to Caleb.”

Yingtai’s eyes widened. So did Candy’s. “You know about my dad?” Candy said.

“Yeah, Andrew told me.” Dipper looked at Yingtai as he said this, studying her reaction.

She gave a little start at Andrew’s name. Her face was a mixture of guilt and fear. “He did?” she asked quietly.

“I flew to the minotaur village with my friend Rowan,” Dipper said, waving a hand at the peryton. “Andrew told me about what happened last week. He. . . he’s really hurt.”

“I know,” Yingtai whispered.

Dipper wanted to ask what Yingtai and Caleb were thinking, betraying Andrew like that. Betraying _everyone_ like that. But Yingtai was an Order member, and from what Andrew had told him, Caleb also supported Bill. It made Dipper sick to think about it — especially when he thought about the pain of losing Mabel — but he managed not to say anything. Was it even worth trying to change their minds?

“Can I come in?” Dipper asked. “Will I. . . be safe here?”

Yingtai met his eyes, and he was almost sure she knew what he meant. Finally, she came out and said it. “You’re a Symbol.”

“Yeah. And I’m going to help form the Cipher Wheel.”

He probably shouldn’t have been so blunt. But it was true. He wanted everyone to know that he would do his part to stop the demon that had hurt his family.

“Cipher Wheel?” said Candy. “You mean the Bill Cipher guy?”

“What do you know about him?” Dipper asked her. He glanced at Greyson, who looked really confused, but who listened without interrupting.

Candy shrugged. “Not much. Mom and Dad say we’re going to go live in his dimension.” At this, she shot an obstinate glare at her mother. “And _I_ say that’s the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard.”

“Agreed,” Dipper said. “Which is why I’m going to help stop him.”

“You want to come into my house after declaring yourself as my enemy?” said Yingtai, folding her arms.

“I’m not your enemy,” Dipper said. “I’m Bill’s enemy. And he’s your enemy.”

Yingtai’s face was pale with anger. “No, he’s not. And you’re not welcome in my house.”

“Mom!” protested Candy. “That’s stupid! Let him in!”

“No, Candy,” Yingtai said. “He’s trying to stop Cipher. And if he talked to Andrew, then he probably came to take your father away.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to do that,” Dipper pointed out. “I don’t want to, either. I want to talk to him, if he’s willing. But if he’s not, I’d still like to come in and talk to Candy. It’s cold out here.”

Candy gave a shiver at that; she wasn’t wearing a coat like Dipper and Greyson. Dipper wondered if it was stupid to ask to enter the house of someone who thought of him as an enemy. It probably was.

“Well, you should definitely talk to my dad,” Candy said. “You can help me tell him how stupid it is to want to go live in another dimension.”

“Candy, don’t call your father stupid,” Yingtai said thinly.

“I didn’t! I called the plan stupid!”

“Can we come in, Ms. Chiu?” Greyson asked. “Or, um, Mrs. Chiu? I just. . . I don’t know what you all are talking about, but I really want to talk to Candy. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Yingtai’s face softened. “Of course you can come in, Greyson. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for Dipper to.”

Dipper folded his arms. “Why, because you’ll kidnap me if I do? Or is it because you don’t want someone who cares about Andrew in your house?”

Yingtai flinched. “How dare you,” she whispered.

“How dare _you_ ,” said Dipper. His parents would chastise him for talking rudely to an adult, especially one he didn’t know, but he thought it was warranted. “You and Caleb hid for thirteen years, from Andrew and everyone else, and then you revealed yourselves by stealing the dagger that started the apocalypse! You seem to care more about Bill than you do Andrew or my sister, who is the one up in the sky, by the way, thanks to the dagger.”

“Caleb and I care about each other and about Candy,” Yingtai said firmly. “Andrew would never have let us be together if we’d told him. It’s because of him that we had to hide from everyone.”

“What?” Candy said incredulously. “It’s _Dad’s_ fault that he hid from _me_! He didn’t have to! You could’ve told me who my dad was a long time ago!”

Mother and daughter glared at each other. Then, “C’mon, guys,” Candy said to the boys. “Let’s go up to my room.”

With a nervous glance at Yingtai, Greyson followed Candy inside. Dipper hesitated just outside the door. “I won’t hurt you,” he said to Yingtai, “and you won’t hurt me?” He had a stun gun and knockout patches that he could use if things got crazy, but he’d rather not.

“Fine,” Yingtai said tersely.

Dipper managed a small smile. “Thanks.”

He went inside and followed Candy and Greyson up the stairs to Candy’s room. A window in the room gave Dipper a good view of Rowan in the front yard. Dipper hoped the peryton wasn’t in any danger here. What if Yingtai had a gun? What if she wanted to shoot Rowan so he and Dipper couldn’t fly away?

Ford would be angry at Dipper for coming here without any backup plans. But even in his apprehension, Dipper felt relieved to be with his friends. “So what’s the deal with your dad?” he asked Candy as he took off his backpack and put it on the floor. “Did you really not know about him until now?”

“No, I didn’t,” Candy said angrily. “He just showed up, and now he expects me to act like I’ve known him my whole life and like it was totally fine for him to hide from me!” She sank her fist into a fluffy pillow on her bed. She had a lot of pillows, and Dipper had a feeling they were more for punching bags than for decoration.

“How did he hide from you?” Greyson asked.

“He and Mom would meet secretly in the forest. And you know what?” Candy added. “I followed them once. I saw them. But then I forgot about it. Ever since my dad showed up, I’ve been remembering all sorts of random stuff — including your sister having a bunch of clones of herself, Dip — and it’s so confusing. And I keep remembering Gideon Northwest, of all people, in a dark room with this weird blue light. . . .”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “You’re remembering that stuff?”

Candy looked at him in surprise. “You knew about it?”

“Well,” Dipper said carefully, “I remember the day with the clones. And I can tell you what’s going on with Gideon.”

“You can?” Candy said eagerly.

Dipper hesitated. Candy would probably want to beat Gideon up for all the times he’d wiped her memories. But Gideon wasn’t here, and Candy deserved to know what was going on. So did Greyson, even if he didn’t remember anything.

“Has your mom told you anything about the Order of the Crescent Eye?” Dipper asked.

“Yeah, she mentioned it as the group that helps Bill Cipher,” Candy said.

“Well, they also wipe memories. If someone sees anything supernatural, the Order gets rid of their memories. They make Gideon Northwest do it for them, using a magical amulet he has. Did. . . did your mom tell you anything about that?”

Candy’s face got increasingly red as Dipper spoke. “No,” she growled, “she didn’t. I haven’t asked; I don’t exactly want to talk to her right now. But no, she didn’t say anything about Gideon Stupid Northwest wiping my memories.”

“It wasn’t his choice, if that helps,” said Dipper, although he doubted it did. He still got angry at Gideon sometimes for his involvement with the Order, even if he logically knew that he wasn’t on Bill’s side.

“How often does that happen?” asked Greyson, a look of alarm on his face. “How many memories have we lost?”

“A lot, I think,” Candy said. “I have new memories popping up in my head all the time these days. It’s annoying.”

“Is that going to happen to me now, too? Since you told me about it?” Greyson asked Dipper.

Dipper shrugged. “I don’t know how it works.”

“They’ll probably come back, yeah,” Candy told Greyson. “I’d apologize, but it’s not my fault Gideon stole your memories.”

“No, it’s not,” Greyson said quietly. He’d gotten past the original reaction of surprise, and now his face was pensive.

“What about you?” Candy asked Dipper. “How come you know all this? What about your memories?”

“I’m immune to Gideon’s amulet,” Dipper said. “It’s part of being a Symbol. Also, Gideon has been staying at the Museum for a couple weeks — since the barrier around town appeared — and he and I are friends now.”

Candy raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s saving my sister right now.”

“Saving your sister?” asked Greyson.

Dipper told them what had happened to Mabel, and what _could_ happen to Mabel, and how Gideon was going to save her before it was too late. He also told of their adventure on Wednesday to get Gideon’s amulet back. The more he talked, the more he realized just how much had happened in the four weeks since he’d seen his friends. He told them about why the gravitational anomalies had happened, about how they’d found Ford’s brother, and about the time bubble. He told them about his friend Andrew, about Andrew’s role as guardian over Bill Cipher’s prison, and about Bill and his evil nature. He explained, with some difficulty, the dagger and Mabel’s moon. Then he explained the Cipher Wheel, and how eight Symbols were staying at the Museum right now, and how Gideon and Mabel needed to come back soon so that Gideon could help Lee possess someone.

Dipper still hadn’t spent any time near Pacifica, but he’d heard from a few people over the last four days about the progress made with her. She was (grudgingly) speaking for Lee, who was currently a spirit, and the Corduroys had talked to Lee through her quite a bit the last few days. Dipper was pretty sure Greg had agreed to let Lee possess him, if Gideon could make it possible.

Fidds and Ford were starting to make up, too. Two days ago, Fidds had suggested reprogramming the portal and sending people back to their home dimension, as a backup plan to the Cipher Wheel. Dipper hadn’t heard of any progress, but Fidds was spending most of his time in the basement, and Ford went down there to help when he wasn’t with Pacifica and Lee. Dipper hadn’t heard Ford yell at Fidds since they’d gotten home on Wednesday, which was really good. Fidds was sorry for what he had done all those years ago; he didn’t deserve to be yelled at.

Dipper and Candy and Greyson talked for at least an hour, maybe two. It was so nice to talk to people. Nobody at the Museum had this much time to talk to Dipper. Fidds, Robbie, and Melody made an effort, but they were busy with different projects, like the portal or talking to Order members or keeping the whole place running. But here, Candy and Greyson were sitting and listening and giving their support.

They also took turns telling their own stories. Greyson had gone with his parents to see (or, not see) the invisible barrier around town for themselves. Then, when Andrew and others had passed out supplies to everyone, Greyson’s family had gone to get some. All three of them had been surprised but grateful for the help. Other than that, they’d mostly stayed home, anxiously waiting for news about the barrier and wondering what they were going to do when they ran out of food. “We have about a month’s worth of food,” Greyson said, “but it’s still scary.”

“You won’t need to use it,” Dipper promised. “We’re going to get back home soon.”

Then Candy told her side. She had noticed the sun jump through the sky when the time bubble had ended, but her mom wouldn’t tell her anything about it, even though she obviously knew something. Candy had been stuck at home while her mom got supplies, met secretly with Caleb, and planned with him to _finally_ reveal himself to Candy. She told of the first few hours that Caleb had been there, which were wonderful; she’d felt so safe and happy. But then the anger had set in. Candy had been angry all week that Caleb hadn’t shown himself until now. “And _then_ ,” she said, “he wants to completely change my life! According to him, we’ll all live happily ever after in some dimension I’ve never even heard of, with none of my friends or anyone else. Nobody to talk to except my parents. Even if I wasn’t mad at them, it’d get boring! He can’t just show up and expect me to go along with his crazy plans! I didn’t even know he _existed_ until last week!”

She was obviously hurt by her parents’ deception. Dipper understood why. If Caleb really loved his daughter, then why hadn’t he interacted with her? And how could he and Yingtai think that Bill’s dimension was better than their own? Fidds had told the Pines about Bill’s dimension: It was empty and dark. Hardly a place to raise a family. Dipper told Candy that, and she just got angrier.

“I have a question,” Greyson said after Candy had ranted for a while. “If you’re half minotaur, then why do you look human?”

“Magic,” Candy said sullenly. “My parents used magic to make me mostly human so my mom could deliver me safely. It makes sense, but I wish they didn’t have to do that, so at least I would’ve been able to tell that I was different, even when I was really little.” She had her arms wrapped around a pillow, and she squeezed it harder as she added, “Maybe Dad wouldn’t have hidden from me then.”

The boys were quiet. “Do you want a hug?” Dipper asked.

Candy looked mildly surprised. Dipper didn’t think she was a hugger, but she said, “Yeah, actually.” She put the pillow down, then stood and looked at both Dipper and Greyson.

The three of them formed a group hug. Dipper thought he heard Candy crying, but he didn’t say anything. She’d be mad if he called attention to it.

While they were hugging, Dipper heard what sounded like hooves on the stairs, and someone knocked on Candy’s door. The three friends let go, and Candy moved to the door. “Yeah?” she called without opening it.

“Dipper wants to talk to me?” said a quiet male voice.

Dipper’s eyes widened, and he looked between his friends. Candy said, “We’ll come downstairs in a minute.”

“All right.” The hooves retreated.

Dipper felt nervous again. What would he say? He didn’t actually know. He didn’t have any specific message from Andrew. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure he could face one of the people responsible for Mabel’s disappearance. Last time Dipper had been in the same room with Pacifica, he had shoved her against a wall and screamed in her face. Would he do something similar here? Would he and Candy jump down Caleb’s throat and tell him all the reasons that his actions were terrible?

Candy glanced at Dipper. “You ready to go tell my dad what you told me? About how Bill’s dimension is lame? And about your sister?”

It seemed Candy was all for jumping down Caleb’s throat, but. . . “Not really,” Dipper admitted. “I’ve already gotten mad at a couple different people for helping Bill and hurting my sister. It’s tiring.”

“I can do all the getting mad,” Candy said. “You can be the reasonable one.”

Dipper gave a half smile. “Like, good cop, bad cop?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be the silent cop,” Greyson offered.

Candy laughed. “That’s fair.”

Dipper could be the good cop, right? He could be nice while still making it clear that what Caleb had done was wrong. He hoped.

He slung his backpack onto his shoulders, just in case he needed the supplies inside. Candy opened the door. Dipper took a deep breath, then followed her and Greyson down the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

Dipper, Candy, and Greyson went down the stairs to the living room. Caleb and Yingtai were sitting on two chairs from the kitchen, leaving the couch open for the three friends. Dipper didn’t like how Candy’s parents were between him and the door. “Can you guys, um, move the chairs over?” he asked. “So — so there’s a clear path to the door?”

Yingtai and Caleb glanced at each other, then did as Dipper asked. “I hope things don’t get to where you feel you have to escape,” Caleb said.

Dipper sat on the couch with his friends and looked at Caleb. Like Andrew, he had tan skin, but his hair was dusty brown rather than blond, and he was a bit stockier, and his horns curved upwards more than Andrew’s did. Dipper wondered what Andrew would say if he were here. Should Dipper have gone to him first and gotten a message to relay to Caleb?

Too late. He took a deep breath. “Thanks,” he said. “Um, hi, Caleb.”

“Hello,” Caleb said warily. “My brother told me a bit about you.”

“Cool,” Dipper said. “I saw him on Wednesday.”

Caleb turned his head to Yingtai, and she whispered, “Three days ago.”

Caleb nodded. “And what. . . did he say?” he asked, though from his tone he was afraid to find out.

“He didn’t ask me to tell you anything specific,” Dipper said. “He just, um, told me the story of what you did. And Enoch said it was good that Candy was with her dad now,” he added, glancing at Candy.

“Who’s Enoch?” she asked.

“Your cousin,” Caleb said softly. “Was he okay?”

"They were all fine physically," Dipper said, "but they were really hurt by what you did."

Caleb nodded, like he’d expected this. At least he seemed to realize _some_ of the consequences of his actions.

“I have cousins?” Candy said. “Wow. Too bad I can’t meet them because of these stupid rifts. Which Dipper says are your fault, Dad.”

Caleb raised his hands. “I had no idea about the rifts.”

“But you don’t mind them, ‘cause they keep me trapped here,” Candy muttered.

“Candy, that’s not fair,” Yingtai said sharply. “We’re not trying to trap you.”

“Then why do you want to stick me in another dimension?” Candy demanded. “What about my friends? What about the sun and the wind and the trees? Do you even know what Bill’s dimension looks like?”

“No,” Caleb admitted, “but Cipher made it sound like it has palaces and—”

“Wrong,” Candy snapped. “It’s _empty_. It’s cold and barren. Right, Dipper?”

Dipper nodded. “One of the other Symbols was trapped in Bill’s dimension for thirty years. He went into some kind of coma and survived, but he says there was nothing but ‘bright blackness.’ He just floated there for thirty years until we opened our portal and brought him back.”

“That must not have been Cipher’s dimension,” Yingtai said.

“It definitely was. He said he himself programmed the portal with Bill’s help.”

“A dimension is a big place,” Caleb said. “That could’ve just been outer space, and Cipher’s planet with its palaces was nearby.”

“He saw _nothing_. Anywhere.” Dipper could feel his frustration rising. “Are you not even going to consider that you’re wrong?”

“Good cop, Dipper,” Greyson muttered.

Right. Dipper shut his mouth and let Candy do her thing. “I believe Dipper,” she said. “And I don’t like the idea of moving, no matter what! I like _this_ house, in _this_ town, on planet Earth, in my own universe!”

“Candy,” said Caleb, “we’re doing all of this for you. This is all to keep you safe from my brother and the other minotaurs who might want to hurt you. As far as I know, you’re the first minotaur-human child _ever_ , and I can think of people who would want to kill you just for existing.”

The room fell quiet as Candy thought about this. “That’s paranoid,” she said.

“No, it’s not! Since you’re mostly human, Cipher can still read your mind. My people are so paranoid about Cipher reading minds that they refuse to associate with humans.”

“If that’s true, then why did Andrew spend time with me?” Dipper asked. “I even went into his hut and met everyone the other day.” Granted, Bill was currently inside Lee’s body and hadn’t been reading minds since the township started its voyage. But Andrew hadn’t known that at first.

Caleb hesitated. “Yes,” he said, “but you’re a Symbol.”

“So? Bill can still read my mind.” Dipper folded his arms. “It doesn’t really sound like this is all for Candy. It kinda sounds like you’re running away.”

Caleb tossed his head and flicked his ears, a clear expression of anger. “Look,” he said, “do you know what we do with criminals in my village? We have a prison for small offenses like minor theft. You visited your uncle there last week. But for bigger things — including any unauthorized contact with Bill Cipher — there are two options: execution or banishment.”

“Banishment? Where?” asked Dipper.

“To another dimension,” Caleb said. “How do you think we’ve kept our population so small if we’ve been here for thousands of years? We have a one-way portal from our village to our dimension of origin. Every few decades, we send some volunteers and criminals through. That would probably be my punishment. Unless the elders decide to just execute me and get it over with. Either way, I’d be separated from my family again. This time forever.”

“And whose fault was it the first time?” Candy demanded. “Oh yeah, _yours_. It’s your fault you hid from me!”

Caleb closed his eyes. “That may be true,” he said quietly. “I. . . I was trying to protect you, Candy. But maybe I didn’t think things through. I didn’t imagine you’d be angry with me.”

Candy didn’t have a response to that. She folded her arms and glared at the floor.

“The point is that, yes, I suppose I’m running away,” Caleb said. “It’s my only choice if I want to stay with my family.”

“What about the rest of your family? Your brother and all those people I met?” Dipper asked. “If you apologize to Andrew — if you try to make things right — if you fight with us instead of against us — then I bet he could help you. I think he could forgive you.”

“You don’t know him,” Caleb said, looking away.

“Maybe _you_ don’t know him, if you’ve spent the last thirteen years being afraid of him.”

Caleb’s ears flicked. “You’re saying you know my brother better than I do?”

“No, but I’m saying to give him a chance! If you run away, you’ll never see him again. Actually, since Mabel’s been up in the sky for eight days and is still alive, that means it’d take over ten weeks to get to Bill’s dimension by the time all ten Symbols are dead. I don’t know if anyone has supplies to stay fed and warm for ten weeks. Bill’s probably expecting everyone to starve so he doesn’t have to fulfill his promises. So not only will you never see Andrew again, but you’ll probably both die.”

Dipper’s voice was level, which was good. He didn’t want to fly off the handle. He just hoped Caleb would listen to him. “On the other hand,” he continued, “if you try to make things right with him — if you give me a note to take to him, or if you ask Gideon Northwest to levitate you over the rifts to see him — you could probably avoid execution or banishment.”

“You don’t know how our laws work.”

“Okay,” Dipper said, “then I’ll go _right now_ to Andrew and ask him if there’s a chance of you not being punished if you start helping us. I’ll ask him if Candy would be safe from anyone who may not like that she was born. I have to get back to the Museum tonight, and I don’t know if it would work to sneak out again, but I can spend the next few hours as your errand boy.”

Caleb hesitated.

“Please, Dad,” Candy said. “Please listen. Everything I’ve heard about this Bill Cipher guy makes me not trust him. Why should he get to tell us how to live our lives?”

“Because he is all-knowing,” Yingtai said. “He has been guiding your father and me since we met.”

Candy blinked. “Oh. Then that’s an even better reason not to trust him! He _told_ you to steal my memories? He told you to hide my dad from me?”

Yingtai’s cheeks flushed pink. “He guided us to do the right thing.”

That was too much for Candy. She jumped to her feet. “News flash!” she yelled at her parents. “Keeping huge secrets from your daughter _is not the right thing!_ ”

Greyson flinched at Candy’s loud voice, but he didn’t say anything. Dipper, for his part, thought the yelling was completely warranted. And, as a bonus, it made it easier not to lose it himself when somebody else was already yelling.

Caleb sucked in air and let it out in a rumbling breath. “Okay,” he said quietly, “okay. Maybe you’re right.”

“What? Jiā lēi, what about—”

“Yingtai,” he said, and his voice was gentle but sad, “I’ve been imagining living with you and Candy for years. I’ve imagined being happy, and waiting comfortably in your electrically heated house while we travelled to our new home, and having Candy be so excited to live with us in another dimension. But there’s no power, and Candy’s angry with us, and nothing has turned out like I imagined.”

“We just have to trust that Lord Cipher will fulfill his promises,” said Yingtai.

“Has he ever actually made promises?” Dipper asked. “Like, ‘I promise you that you’ll live in a palace when we get to my dimension’? Because in my experience, he only makes you think things will be like that, without actually committing. Fiddleford, the guy who was in Bill’s dimension for thirty years, did really awful stuff because he thought he’d gain some big reward from Bill in the end. But he didn’t. He just got a thirty-year coma and hatred from his best friend. And because of what he did, my uncle Lee — the guy you know as Blind Lincoln — lost his memory and was separated from his brother for thirty years. If. . . if you knew Fidds, if you could see how sad he is most of the time. . . you’d see what you get from helping Bill.”

Yingtai and Caleb both looked at him silently. “He didn’t explicitly make promises,” Caleb finally said. “I can’t remember any. And. . . and I haven’t heard from him since getting the dagger for him. Like. . . like he’s abandoned us.”

Yingtai looked at him like she couldn’t believe her ears, and he took her hand. “I’ve actually been thinking about this the past couple days,” he admitted. “I. . . I haven’t wanted to admit it, but. . . maybe Cipher was wrong. Maybe we should’ve figured out a way to raise Candy together.”

“How? Your people would’ve wanted us dead.”

“I don’t think it would’ve been safe to tell them,” Caleb said, “but maybe I should’ve just left. I. . . I don’t know. I don’t know what the right way would’ve been, but surely there was a way that didn’t end with my daughter hating me.”

“And my sister disappearing,” Dipper whispered.

“Dad, I — I don’t hate you,” Candy said. “I’m really mad at you, but I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” he asked hopefully.

“No. But you have lots of apologies to make. And twelve years to make up for.”

Caleb started to nod, then shook his head. “Even if they don’t banish or execute me, they’ll put me in prison,” he said.

“Well, that’s called the consequences for your actions,” Dipper said helpfully.

Caleb tossed his head, but then lowered it, putting his hands over his eyes. “You’re right,” he whispered.

“Jiā lēi,” Yingtai said, “you can _not_ turn yourself in.”

“They can’t get to me yet,” Caleb said. “I have time. Are you still willing to help me?” he asked Dipper.

Dipper nodded. “I can help you today. But I don’t know how much time you have after that. Gideon and my sister could come back at any moment, and then we’ll have everyone to do the Cipher Wheel.”

This wasn’t exactly true, since he didn’t know if Pacifica was willing to join them, and they still needed to figure out how Lee could possess someone. But it was true enough. Yingtai looked as if she were seriously considering kidnapping Dipper now that he’d shared this information. That was a little scary, but Dipper thought he could get a knockout patch out quick enough to stop her if need be.

“If you’re only available for a few hours, then I’d better get started on a letter,” Caleb said.

“And I should get home,” Greyson said, glancing at the clock.

“Have we really been here that long?” Dipper asked. But as he said it, he realized that yeah, they had been.

Greyson stood, and Candy stood as well. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “It was really, really good to see you.”

“You too,” Greyson replied with a smile. He put his hands out like offering another hug, but it seemed Candy was only up for one hug that day. She hit him lightly in the shoulder instead.

“Rowan could probably take you by yourself if you want,” Dipper said.

“I’d be too scared of falling off without you behind me,” Greyson replied.

So Dipper went with Greyson back to his house. He didn’t want to say goodbye to his friend, but he had to. “Bye, Greyson.” He hugged him hard. “Hang in there. It’ll be okay. We’ll get home.”

“Will we?” asked Mrs. Gray quietly.

“Yeah,” Dipper said. “I’m going to do everything I can, and so is the rest of my family and our friends. We’re going to get this whole forest back home safely.”

With that, he went back to Candy’s house. Caleb was sitting at the kitchen table, frantically writing a letter, sometimes pausing and lowering his head onto the table as he thought of what to say. That looked funny, because he just rested his big bovine nose on the wood and sat there for a few seconds, but Dipper didn’t dare laugh.

“You did it,” Candy said quietly to Dipper in the living room. “You got him to listen.”

“I think he was ready to listen,” Dipper said. “And I think our good cop, bad cop routine helped.”

“Yeah. We make a good team,” Candy said with a grin.

“I don’t know,” Dipper teased, “I saw some good cop moments from you, Miss Bad Cop.”

“Not as many as your bad cop moments, Mr. Good Cop.”

Dipper glanced at the time. Even if the sky wasn’t working, at least the clocks were. It was about five P.M., and Dipper knew Melody would get worried if he didn’t come back for dinner. But he’d promised to help Caleb, and he knew it would be a while before he went home.

Yingtai got out some cold food for dinner. Dipper, Candy, and her mom ate at one end of the table while Caleb worked at the other.

“I hate it,” he frequently muttered to himself. “I hate it; he’ll hate it; this is pointless.” But he kept working, and around seven, he was done. “It’s probably bad, but this is what I could do in a few hours,” he said as he handed it to Dipper.

“I’ll take it to Andrew, and I’ll try to bring back a reply tonight,” Dipper promised. He glanced between Yingtai and Caleb. “Can I tell him that you’ll both join the fight against Bill?”

Yingtai flatly said, “No,” and Caleb hesitated before saying, “I don’t know.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Candy said. “You already admitted that Bill’s plans were bogus, Dad. And Mom, why not?”

“Because the Order means a lot to me,” Yingtai said. “It’s. . . it’s how I made friends after immigrating here.”

“But what about Bill himself?” Dipper asked. “Do you still think he’s good?”

She hesitated. “Maybe not.”

“It’s more important to follow what’s right than to follow your friends,” said Dipper. That was something his parents repeated to him often, and he believed it. He added, “And if it helps, Janice and Greg Corduroy switched sides. You won’t be alone.”

Yingtai looked annoyed at being lectured by a child, but there was a hint of guilt in her face as well. And maybe some hope.

Caleb took a shaky breath. “The truth is, Dipper, that I care most about being with my family. If Cipher can’t actually give us a safe place to live, then I won’t help him. But unless my people let me stay with my family, I don’t want to help them, either.”

Dipper could understand that, though he still didn’t like it. “Did you say that in your letter?”

“Basically. That’s why I think Andrew will hate it.”

“I don’t think so,” Dipper said. “At least, I don’t think he hates Yingtai and Candy. He’s just really sad you hid them.” He put the note in his backpack. “Well, I’ll tell him that you’re both considering switching sides. How’s that?”

“Sure,” said Caleb. Yingtai mumbled something that may have been an objection, but Dipper took it as an agreement. If she really wanted to object, she would’ve let him know.

Dipper and Rowan flew to the minotaur village. Andrew was relieved to read the letter and hear Dipper's news that Caleb's and Yingtai's minds were changing. For a few hours, he worked on his reply, and Dipper hung out with his children — his calves, he called them — while Andrew wrote. When Dipper brought Andrew's letter back to the Chius, Caleb was noticeably anxious, pulling on his horns and pacing, but he took the letter immediately and left to read it.

“He says he’ll talk to the elders,” he announced when he was done. “He says — he says we can work something out.”

He asked Dipper if there was something he could do to thank him. “No, I’d better get home now,” Dipper said. “But if — if you could, um — well, because of what you did, my sister is in danger. My friend is trying to save her, and I’m hoping that he’ll succeed, but — but it’s really hard. Really painful. And it’s. . . because of you. Not entirely, but—”

“I’m sorry,” Caleb said sincerely. “I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry I helped Pacifica and Bill. I hope your sister can return safely.”

That’s what Dipper had been trying to ask for — an apology — and he felt a little better. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

It was late; Dipper had to leave. He went to the door, and Candy followed. “Thank you,” she said. “I really needed that. All of it.”

“Me too,” Dipper said. “I’m really glad I could see you again. Will you be okay here?”

“Yeah.” She slugged him on the shoulder, noticeably harder than she had Greyson. “Hey,” she said, “make sure to save the world, okay?”

“Well, it’s just this forest,” Dipper said.

“This forest _is_ my world,” said Candy. “So save it.”

Dipper grinned. “I will.”

Dipper and Rowan returned to the Museum, flying in from above so the servants wouldn’t see until it was too late to stop them. What were those guys still doing here, anyway? Three days ago, Gideon had suggested to Ivy the hamadryad that she do something to sabotage the servants and Order members that were standing guard around the Museum. Dipper was hoping Ivy and other hamadryads and supernatural creatures would come and drive their enemies away, but so far no one had shown up.

Rowan landed, and Dipper went inside. Melody was anxiously waiting, and she hugged Dipper tightly when she saw him. As expected, Ford was angry that Dipper had left, though everyone was impressed and excited about Dipper’s conversation with Caleb. Robbie wondered aloud if it’d be possible to bring anyone over to their side without Dipper.

The visit to the Chius had gone better than Dipper had expected. Caleb had seen that his actions had hurt the people he loved rather than helped them. He’d been ready to change his mind; he just needed Dipper and Candy to help him get there. And now he and Andrew were on the road to reconciliation.

Reconciliation. Dipper wanted to be reconciled with _his_ sibling. When was Mabel coming back? What was taking Gideon so long? It helped that Caleb had apologized for his part in hurting her, but it didn’t bring her back. It didn’t stop the constant worry in the back of Dipper’s mind that Mabel was going to die at any moment.

He shook his head. No. She _wasn’t_ going to die. She couldn’t. Gideon would save her. Dipper would see her again.

As he went to sleep that night, he repeated that in his head over and over. He had to believe it.

Mabel would be here soon.


	10. Chapter 10

Mabel didn’t know how long it had been since Charles had abducted her, but she guessed it had been at least a full day by now. She stood in darkness, handcuffed to a metal bracket in a stone wall. Her legs hurt from standing for so long, and she was hungry and thirsty — feelings she had all but forgotten in her perfect fantasy world.

She was exhausted, too. Yesterday, when Gideon had told her she was dying, she’d felt just fine. She’d only had his word for it. But now. . . now she could tell. She could almost feel her life draining away as she stood there, trapped and alone.

Well, not completely alone. There were the voices.

They whispered to her almost constantly. Pacifica’s voice, Bill’s voice, her own voice — they all told her that she was worthless, that the world was better off without her. And then Dipper’s voice, Ford’s voice, Gideon’s voice — they’d call out for help, and Mabel couldn’t go to them. Her feelings of uselessness all came back to her, and they only grew as she stood there chained to the wall.

She’d tried talking back to the voices at first. “Please,” she’d said, “I can’t do anything; I’m stuck. You have to help me before I can help you.” But anything she said was only fodder for the voices’ derisive remarks.

“You don’t deserve help,” said Dipper’s voice. “I’ve spent all my life helping you, and when have you ever helped me back? It’s time you helped me for a change.”

“You tried to help me with the portal,” said Ford’s voice, “but you only made things worse. Even when you try, you mess things up.”

“I’m doing a **public service** by killing you,” Bill’s voice assured her. “You’re a **drain** on everyone else.”

Those comments and more floated around the dark room. Mabel soon gave up trying to talk back.

Every hour or so, Charles appeared, his face lit by his amulet. His ethereal grey skin shone in the pale blue light. “I’m checking up on you,” he explained, “to make sure Gideon doesn’t find you. Not that he will. But it was a mistake to leave you alone with him.” He walked closer to Mabel. “You can’t send me away again.”

That confused Mabel; it sounded like Charles was accusing her of forcibly sending him away rather than asking him to leave. He’d left willingly then, or so it had seemed. But now he didn’t listen to her when she asked him to let her go. He was keeping her here, and he didn’t seem inclined to change his mind.

Where was here, anyway? It seemed like the headquarters to the Order of the Crescent Eye. But according to Gideon, the door to the Order was actually the door out of the moon. So where was Mabel? How did she get in here, and how was Gideon going to follow?

He probably couldn’t. Not because he was incompetent, but because it was probably physically impossible to follow.

“You’re so stupid. You didn’t even realize I had scars,” Gideon’s voice said. The real Gideon wasn’t here, Mabel knew, but it was his exact voice. “I was at the Museum for over a week, and I was in pain that whole time, and you were so selfish that you didn’t even notice.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She whispered that over and over again in those hours cuffed to the wall. Sometimes the voices ignored her; other times they mocked her for trying to apologize. But it was all she could do. They were right, at least about some things: She was selfish; she was often useless; and when she did try to help, she often failed. She knew that about herself, but it hurt to have those things repeated back to her with the voices of people she loved.

She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. But she couldn’t. Oh, she could cry, and she did. But she couldn’t lay down or bury her face in a pillow or snuggle with a family member. She was alone, in a perpetual standing position, listening to her worst thoughts said aloud.

Her energy was depleted. She couldn’t sleep, but she wanted to. She wanted an escape from these voices, from this brain fatigue. She was dying. Part of her just wanted to get it over with to stop the pain.

Those thoughts scared her. She didn’t want to die. But if that was her fate, then. . .

No. No, Mabel, she told herself. That does _not_ have to be your fate. She hummed to herself to try to block out the voices, to try to get a moment to think. Sometimes she hummed lullabies her mother had sung to her as a child; sometimes she hummed theme songs; sometimes she hummed nothing more than random notes. It helped.

She didn’t have to listen to the voices. She had more thoughts than the self-deprecating ones. She had more thoughts than the ones that wanted to die and be done. She didn’t have to pay attention to the bad ones.

It was hard. But every time she found herself getting distracted by bad thoughts, she guided herself back to the good ones — the ones that focused on escaping, on getting home to her real family, on defeating Bill Cipher. It was exhausting, but she was already exhausted, so might as well keep going, right? She had to figure out how to get out of here. If Gideon wasn’t going to find her — and she couldn’t risk her life believing that he would — then she had to save herself.

She may not be able to help the people calling for her, but maybe she could help herself. And once she was safe, she could try helping others. But it was useless to sit here wishing she could go help her family when she was literally chained to the wall. So how to get free?

She thought back to everything Gideon had said over the past five days that she had ignored. Even though she hadn’t listened to him at the time, the memory of what he said came back surprisingly easily. On his first morning, he’d told her for the first time that the world wasn’t real. He’d called it a simulation.

Well, Mabel had read plenty of books about simulated worlds. The question, then, was who controlled the simulation. Charles?

“You can’t send me away again,” Charles had said. As if her telling him she wanted to be alone yesterday had been a binding command. Could _she_ control the simulation? It was created for her, after all. Created to kill her, yes, but maybe she had some amount of control over it. After all, the voices were speaking some of her worst thoughts. They had to get those thoughts from her mind somehow. And if the simulation could get into her mind, then maybe she could use her mind against the simulation. . . .

These ideas came to her over hours of humming, thinking, redirecting harmful thoughts, and thinking some more. When she finally came to the conclusion that she could control the simulation, she felt both a surge of triumph and a wave of hopelessness. She didn’t have the energy to try controlling the simulation. She didn’t have energy for anything. Her body ached; her mouth begged for water. It was all she could do to _think_ about controlling the simulation. It sounded impossible to actually control it.

She stood there in her hopelessness for who knows how long. She stopped humming, and the voices took the opportunity to rail her with more insults. It took a long time for Mabel to get ahold of herself, to start humming again — could vocal cords hurt from humming so much, or was she just crazy? Never mind; she had to block out the voices somehow.

How to control the simulation? Would it work if she just wished really hard? She’d asked Charles over and over to let her go, and he wasn’t listening. But he was a person. Well, a fake person, but some kind of intelligence. She couldn’t control him, it seemed, but maybe she could control the world itself. Maybe she could teleport out of this dark stone room.

She thought about different ways to teleport. She’d read about people teleporting by imagining the place they wanted to go, or by refusing to believe they were in their current location in the first place. There were spells, handheld devices, portals. She didn’t have any of those objects, but she did have her mind. And though it was feeling very battered, very tired, her mind was the most trusted thing she had. Sometimes she struggled to trust herself — and right now, with voices whispering her insecurities, was one of those times — but she couldn’t trust anyone else. So her own selfish, immature, useless mind would have to do.

Okay. Teleporting. Where should she try to teleport to? She had no idea where Gideon was. But he’d wanted to take her to the library, where the exit from this world was. So that’s where she would go: the library. Funny how libraries had mentally transported Mabel to many a fantasy world, and now this one would physically transport Mabel to the real one.

The library. She could imagine a library easily: shelves of books, chairs to read in, sunlight through the windows. But she wasn’t just trying to teleport to any library; she was trying to teleport to the Gravity Rises library. And, surprisingly, she could only think of one time she’d gone to that library, plus the two times she had gone to the Order headquarters. She didn’t really remember what it looked like.

She could remember what the back side of it looked like, though. She’d only seen it with the ground around it covered in snow — that’s right, it was winter in the real world right now — but the sight of the metal door came to her mind with a thrill of fear. All of her memories with the Order were bad ones. Just thinking about the door brought those memories back.

No, she told herself, don’t be afraid of it. Right now, that door is your ticket home. Think of it as a good place, not a scary one.

How to get to it? She could pull it up in her mind’s eye — at least, she could for a moment before scathing whispers broke her concentration. But in order to teleport, Mabel didn’t think she could just imagine what the place looked like. She had to imagine it with all her senses: her wrist, free from this metal cuff; sunlight, shining down on her; the whispers, gone, replaced by a wordless wind.

 _That_ was going to be a lot harder. And it might not even work. But it was the best place she could think of to start.

She tried to focus. Tried to imagine all the sensations she would have while standing outside the library. But she couldn’t. The whispers pulled at her attention; she hummed louder to drown them out, but then her own humming distracted her, too. Then there was the tight metal cuff around her wrist — how could she pretend to not feel it? And it was hard to imagine light in the darkness.

“Stop,” she finally said. She tried to inject firm confidence into her voice. “Stop whispering. You’re not real, and what you’re saying isn’t true.” Well, she believed some of it, but not all of it. She didn’t believe she deserved to die, for one. She took a deep breath. “Everybody stop talking. If I’m alone in here, then I’d better _actually_ be alone.”

The voices stopped for a moment. Mabel didn’t know if it was in response to what she’d said — after all, the voices hadn’t been talking _all_ the time since she’d gotten here. Maybe this was just a natural lull.

They started up again. “You think you can control us,” Pacifica’s voice said scornfully.

“She’s so controlling,” Dipper’s voice said. “It’s stifling.”

“Yes,” Mabel said, “I _do_ think I can control you. You’re not real, after all. I should be able to control my own dream world, don’t you think? So nobody gets to talk.”

She’d had lucid dreams. This world wasn’t quite like that — too lifelike — but maybe it worked on a similar principle. Just like in her dreams, and just like in Robbie’s mind that one time, Mabel should be able to do anything if she could just imagine it.

Theoretically. The voices kept whispering; Mabel imagined silence, but that was pretty hard to do. Finally, she tried imagining the places where she usually found silence — her room, the climbing tree in her backyard, the school library — and thought back to the peace and quiet she sometimes felt in those places. Then she did her best to translate that thought into actual silence.

“I am alone here,” she said out loud. “No one is going to respond to me.”

No one did.

A thrill raced through her chest. She did it! She still had a lot of those demeaning thoughts in her head, but she was able to push them out of the forefront of her mind. Now to get out of these handcuffs.

That proved to be almost impossible. The metal was cold and tight on her wrist. Tactile sensations were really hard to imagine, especially in reverse. So could she do something else? Imagine the handcuffs as pliable? That’d work in a dream; she may as well try it here.

“This is as easy to bend as a paper clip,” she said, touching the handcuff with her free hand. It was helpful to state her intentions out loud. “I’m going to bend this back, and it’s going to move.”

It took multiple tries, which was worrying. Who knew when Charles would be back? But Mabel encouraged herself and continued imagining the handcuff as pliable, and it finally worked. With some effort, Mabel pried the handcuff off her wrist.

She was making progress. Now to get out of here.

She didn’t want to try to feel her way around the dark. She could try making it light in here, but she’d rather try to teleport if she could. Feeling along the stone wall, she made her way to the corner of the room, so that Charles wouldn’t see her immediately if he appeared. Then she closed her eyes and tried once again to imagine herself outside by the library.

The sunlight pressing on her eyelids. The heat of the sun on her face. The soft ground beneath her shoes. Birdsong in the distance. Mabel imagined all of these things, hoping it’d work better if she did it with her eyes closed. That way, she didn’t have to imagine all the details of the view around her. She could almost feel it. . .

“I am standing outside the library,” she said.

Nothing happened. She tried not to get discouraged. You can do this, she told herself. If there’s anything you have, Mabel, it’s an imagination.

Deep breath. Try again.

On the fifth try, it still hadn’t worked, but she thought she was getting closer. Unfortunately, before she could try a sixth time, a blue light appeared. Charles was here to check on her.

“Mabel?” he called, sounding alarmed.

Mabel’s heart sped up. No. No, stay calm. You’re invisible. He can’t see you. If you just stay here, standing like you have nothing to hide, then he won’t see you. She wanted to say it aloud, but that would defeat the purpose.

She kept her eyes closed so she wouldn’t meet Charles’ gaze and give herself away. I’m invisible, she repeated to herself while simultaneously attempting to teleport.

Charles walked around the room, his footsteps sounding on the stone. Mabel tried to calm her heartbeat. You’re outside. It’s nice and peaceful. Feel the breeze. Feel the heat of the sun. See the light pushing against your eyelids.

She felt as if she were there already. Just a moment more. . .

“Oh, there you are.”

Mabel’s eyes snapped open, her concentration broken. A jolt of fear shuddered through her chest. She tried to be brave and meet Charles’ eyes, but they were in shadow due to the fact that the room’s only light source was under his chin.

“Clever, Mabel,” Charles said, “but that won’t work. This is my world. I _am_ the prison. And you won’t escape me.”

He waved a hand, and Mabel felt herself start to shrink. No! She wouldn’t shrink. She refused. She folded her arms and glared at him and resisted his magic.

“No, Charles,” she said defiantly. “This is _my_ world.”

Charles growled at her and moved forward, but Mabel moved in the other direction. As she moved, she tried one more time — desperately — to teleport to the library. She imagined the soft loamy ground giving way beneath her shoes. She thought of the heat and sweat of being outside on a summer day. She envisioned the metal door of the Order in front of her.

She could feel Charles’ hand grab at her shirt. But that was just the wind. Charles wasn’t here at the library. She’d left him behind.

She didn’t dare speak her intentions aloud. But she thought them clearly in her mind: I am outside the library!

And then she was.

She gasped as the sensations transferred from her imagination to reality. She. . . she did it! She really did it! She teleported!

“Ha!” she shouted. “Take that, you dumb voices! I’m not useless!”

She looked around the clearing behind the library, grinning at the trees, at the sky, even at the metal door to the Order. That door was a good thing right now. She was happy to see it. There was even a flashlight wedged in the opening to keep it from closing. That must be Gideon’s work — good thinking.

Speaking of which, where was Gideon? He could be anywhere. Still looking for her. How long had it been, anyway? Another look at the sky showed a bright morning sun. She’d probably been gone for two days. One day left, and then she’d die.

She didn’t want to die. Regardless of the harmful thoughts that encouraged it. She’d spent two days in the darkness, trying to ignore the voices, trying to control her world. She wouldn’t give up now.

But how could she find Gideon?

Her exhaustion, temporarily ignored in her enthusiasm from teleporting, was starting to come back. But she wasn’t done yet. Yes, she’d been standing for two days. Yes, she hadn’t had food or water in that time. But no, she couldn’t lay down and take a nap on the grass, no matter how nice the prospect was.

Gideon. How to find Gideon. Could she bring him here? That was faster than going out to look for him. She had brought herself here; surely she could bring him here, too.

She thought about him in her mind’s eye. She imagined his face, his white hair falling over his brow, his dress shirt, his amulet. She did _not_ imagine his bare arms with their scars. At least, she tried not to. I’m not my scars, he’d said, and she didn’t want to think of him that way.

“Gideon is standing right there,” she said, pointing at a spot in front of her.

It took a few tries, but she was getting better at controlling this world. Suddenly, Gideon _was_ standing there, with a confused look on his face. “What—?”

Then his eyes caught Mabel’s.

“ _Mabel!_ ” he cried. He threw his arms around her. She hugged him tightly. She did it. They were both here. They could leave. They could go back to the real world.

She pulled back to tell him that, but the words didn’t come. Gideon was looking at her with such a look of relief, of joy, that she could only smile at him. His eyes flicked down to her smile. To her lips.

Before Mabel knew what was happening, Gideon kissed her.


	11. Chapter 11

He didn’t know why he did it. He was just so happy, so relieved to see her. He’d been searching for her for two days, and his morale was quickly dropping. But then she was there. One moment, he’d been searching the forest for her; the next, he was standing in front of her.

It was her. It was her!

“ _Mabel!_ ” He hugged her; and when she pulled back, he got a good look at her face.

Kiss her! cried his brain in a rush of excitement.

So he did.

It was a moment of bliss. His lips on hers, his hands on her shoulders, his brain on fire as the hormones rushed through it. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

But then it was over. Mabel pushed him away and jumped back. “What are you doing?” she asked. Her voice was alarmed, even a bit horrified.

Gideon’s bliss evaporated. He stared at her. “I. . . I wanted to kiss you,” he said lamely.

She blinked as she processed this. “You need to ask,” she said, as if this were obvious. As if he had broken a well-known social rule.

“What?”

“You need to ask before you kiss me,” she said. She still looked shocked, but her eyes were firm.

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought of that. He’d thought. . . well, he didn’t know what he’d thought. He’d just acted. Not something he usually did.

In his rising embarrassment, he said, “Then. . . can I kiss you?”

“No,” she said vehemently.

He stared at her.

She deflated. “No,” she said again, much quieter this time. “I’m sorry, but. . . no. I’m not ready for that.”

“Oh,” he said again. He wished he could be more eloquent, but his brain could only think in single syllables at the moment.

His excitement at seeing Mabel was gone. He was still really happy to see her, but that feeling was crowded out by his embarrassment. And by a touch of resentment. Why couldn’t she just kiss him?

“Can we, um, go?” she asked. “I — I’m ready.”

For the first time, Gideon looked around him. They were outside the library. The metal door, with Gideon’s flashlight still wedging it open, was right there. How. . . ?

He glanced back at Mabel’s face and saw triumph there. “I got us both here,” she said in response to his confused look. “This is my world.”

Though he was still embarrassed, he found himself smiling. “You saved yourself.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she said. For a moment, he worried he’d broken another social rule and offended her, but then she smiled again. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. But I couldn’t have done it without you to snap me out of whatever spell was on my mind.”

They smiled at each other for a moment — though they couldn’t seem to meet each other’s eyes. Mabel’s cheeks were flushed; Gideon probably looked the same, based on the heat in his face.

His unwelcome kiss — what was he _thinking?_ — was only made more awkward by the next thing he had to say. “Well,” he said, “um, well, I. . . I can only levitate one person at a time. As — as you know. So, um, I have to — to carry you.”

Her pink cheeks turned red in the awkwardness. “Oh. Um. Oh.”

“You can ride on my back,” he said. “If. . . if you want.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He turned around, cursing himself as he did so. What an idiot. He’d _seen_ that she didn’t want to be in a relationship with him. He’d seen it in her own perfect fantasy world! What had possessed him to kiss her?

Hormones, his unrepentant brain replied. You’re a teenage boy. It’s natural.

His cheeks grew hotter.

“Should I wear the backpack?” Mabel asked. Huh? Oh, right. His backpack. Gideon took it off and gave it to her. Then she climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting her legs so he could link his arms under her knees. An innocent piggyback ride, made a million times more awkward because of Gideon’s dumb hormones.

He walked to the door, sticking his foot into the gap and pushing it open with Mabel’s help. He bent down to grab the flashlight, then handed it up to her. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“I want to live,” she said firmly.

It wasn’t quite an answer to his question, but he was happy to hear it. He had no idea what she’d gone through these last two days. But from that sentence alone, he was sure it’d been hard.

The darkness on the other side of the door, a contrast to the morning sun, pressed in on Gideon as he stepped past the door and let it close behind him. He didn’t mind darkness, usually, but in this moment his mind cried out for him to go back. Go back and live in the sun! There’s no sunlight where you’re going. Go back.

He didn’t listen. That sun was fake. He needed to go back to the real world, activate the Cipher Wheel, and take his home back to the real sun. _His_ sun.

With a determined breath, he activated his amulet and stepped off the landing. He wouldn’t bother with the stairs. Mabel felt lighter now that they were in the air; that was good. He floated downwards, and the dark blue surface of the moon came into view. They had to get through that, and it would hurt.

Speaking of pain. . . “Mabel,” he said, “does your hand hurt?”

A beat of silence. “No,” she said, sounding surprised. “It hasn’t hurt since Charles kidnapped me.” Then she took a hissing breath. “Oh. Now it hurts.”

Gideon nodded. “I think it’s going to hurt a lot worse once we get out of here. I’m going to take you right down to the forest and call for the hamadryads to help you, okay? They should be able to help with your hand and with whatever this prison did to you. But try not to scream in pain. I don’t want anyone to realize we’re leaving.”

“Okay,” Mabel said, sounding nervous.

“It’s going to hurt leaving the moon, too,” Gideon said. “See that blue surface below us? We have to pass through that, and it somehow simulates pain. It’ll stop hurting once we’re through, but it’ll take at least five minutes. Maybe ten.”

“Oh,” Mabel said. “I thought we’d be out of the moon as soon as we stepped through the door.”

“No. We’re in a hollow sphere now. I’m just lucky I found the door to your world when I first came in here.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Gideon descended until his shoes brushed the surface. Even with his shoes on, pain seared through his feet.

“Hold on tight,” he told Mabel. “Once we’re through, we only have my amulet to keep us in the air.”

Then he fell. He didn’t cancel his amulet magic; rather, he used it to push himself down. His feet burned, and he had to push with both his magic and his muscles to get his legs through the dense barrier. Mabel held on to him; she hadn’t touched the surface yet.

Then, when Gideon was up to his knees, Mabel’s feet hit the surface. She gave a surprised gasp of pain. “I know,” Gideon said, his voice strained. “Just hold on.”

He kept pushing down, and the pain spread through his body. Mabel whimpered quietly in his ear as they went.

It seemed to take a little shorter than last time, probably because they had gravity on their side. Gideon vaguely wondered how Gravity Rises still had normal gravity as it floated through space. It was probably part of the magic of the township, but he still wondered how it worked. That train of thought gave him something else to think about besides the burning pain.

“Almost there,” he told Mabel just before their heads were submerged. “Hold your breath.”

Their heads slowly passed through the surface. The pain dissipated as they left the moon.

At first, since Gideon was still pushing down with his magic, he and Mabel fell at an alarming rate. But Gideon slowed to a hover, then pointed himself like an arrow to the forest below. He flew like a bullet to the ground.

Mabel’s whimpers died off, and her head drooped onto Gideon’s shoulder. She clung to Gideon’s neck, but her grip seemed to be slackening.

Oh, no. Was she about to fall unconscious? She’d fall off his back if she did. Gideon flew through a gap in the trees and stopped, hovering horizontally over the snow so that Mabel’s weight was on him. Then he slowly rotated and laid Mabel on the ground. Her weak arms released his neck, and he quickly landed upright beside her, levitating her back into the air before she spent too much time in the cold snow.

“Help!” he called. “We need a hamadryad to help us! My friend is hurt! She’s a Symbol, and she might be dying! Please, someone help!” His yells weren’t panicked, but they were as loud as he could make them. Surely someone would hear.

Mabel gave a piteous moan at his shouts. She was at least semi-conscious; that was good.

“Please,” Gideon called, “can a hamadryad help her?”

A woman appeared beside the trees. It was June. “I’ll help,” she said.

“Thank you.” Gideon took his backpack off Mabel’s back — his coat was in there; he’d need it — and then levitated Mabel into June’s arms. Mabel moaned again as June held her.

“Wait here,” June said. “I don’t know how bad the damage is or how long it’ll take, but there should be some heat mushrooms nearby for you.”

She and Mabel disappeared into the trees.

Gideon watched them go, anxious thoughts running through his head. What if June couldn’t help her? What if nine days in the life-draining moon was too much, and Mabel never recovered? How could Gideon remember Mabel’s hand injury but not think that Mabel might fall unconscious once they were back in the real world? He shouldn’t have let her ride on his back; he should’ve just carried her. That would’ve made things more awkward, but at least she wouldn’t have been in danger.

Well, what mattered was that they’d made it here safely. Gideon’s mistakes hadn’t stopped Mabel from getting to June.

He shivered in the winter wind. In his backpack were his vest, coat, and gloves, which he put on; he also had a bag of heat mushrooms, so he didn’t have to look for the ones June was talking about. Even with all his gear, though, he was still cold, and he wished to be back in the warm summer sun in Mabel’s fake world. Not that he wanted to go back in there, but. . . who knew how long it’d be before he saw the real sun again?

June and Mabel were gone for about half an hour. While they were gone, Gideon hovered above the snow and looked up at the sky and its unfamiliar stars. He wondered for a moment when those stars were going to disappear, but then he realized they weren’t going to. The township wasn’t moving through the dimensions anymore. Its power source had escaped.

Mabel’s moon was changing, too. Now that its victim was gone, it changed from a dark blue color to a neutral white one. The cracks that formed the pine tree faded, and new cracks with no particular pattern replaced them. Gideon was glad the moon was still here (it’d be hard to see without its light), and he was doubly glad that it was no longer killing his friend.

Gideon had said he didn’t want anyone to realize they were leaving the moon, but with the color change, everyone would know Mabel had escaped. He wondered if Bill, in Lincoln’s body, was watching. What would the demon do now? As far as Gideon knew, the Mystery Museum was still a safe place for the Symbols. Once he and Mabel got back there, and once Gideon helped Lincoln possess someone else’s body, they would be able to form the Cipher Wheel. There didn’t seem to be much Bill _could_ do.

That was a nice feeling. After the stress of the last week, it was good to feel like Gideon and the others held the advantage.

Well. . . they held the advantage _if_ June could heal Mabel. Gideon couldn’t shake the paranoid thought that the hamadryad’s powers wouldn’t be enough. He tried not to think about worst-case scenarios, but it was hard. Especially because he was _also_ trying not to think of the mortifying embarrassment of kissing Mabel when she didn’t want him to.

Both of those forbidden subjects chased each other around Gideon’s head. And in his exhaustion (which had been absent since he’d flown up to Mabel’s moon, but which was now settling back onto his brain), Gideon didn’t have much energy to monitor his thoughts.

You have to ask, Mabel had said. He’d never thought of _asking_ to kiss someone. It was something that just happened, wasn’t it? The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized he didn’t have much experience. He’d seen his parents kiss, but never for long, and never with passion. He’d heard about kisses in movies, though he hadn’t seen many himself; when he watched movies at all, he didn’t like romantic ones.

He really had no idea what he was doing. So he just went for it. But apparently that wasn’t okay.

He wanted it to be okay, though. He wanted to kiss Mabel. He’d gone through so much for her. Didn’t he deserve it?

With that thought, he scowled at himself. Mabel was dying, and he was whining about how he _deserved_ to kiss her? Of course he didn’t. He hadn’t been able to save Mabel; in the end, she’d had to do it herself. If she didn’t want him to kiss her, then that was her choice. He certainly didn’t earn it.

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized. . . relationships probably weren’t something you _earned_ in the first place. Not like earning a prize.

He didn’t know. This topic wasn’t something he’d ever bothered to learn, because before Mabel, he’d hardly ever thought about it.

Eventually, he was spared from his thoughts by June and Mabel reappearing below him. He heard Mabel’s boots crunch in the snow, and he immediately flew back down to the ground. Mabel was on her feet, holding June’s hand and leaning on the hamadryad. She looked tired, but awake. Alive.

Gideon couldn’t resist a relieved smile. “Mabel. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

She looked down at her snow-covered feet as she considered her answer. Gideon realized that she was back in her pine tree shirt and orange jacket. The change must’ve happened magically when they’d exited the moon; Gideon hadn’t noticed until now. The jacket had bloodstains on its sleeves from last week, but Mabel wasn’t currently bleeding. That was good.

“It stills hurts,” Mabel said, looking back up at Gideon. “My hand, I mean. But June say it’ll finish healing in a few hours. I’m really tired, too, but she says that should pass with a few nights of good sleep.”

June nodded. “She was very fortunate,” she told Gideon. “She was in there for a long time, but she only lost a small portion of her life force. Nothing that can’t be recovered with some rest.”

“How does that work?” Gideon asked. “She didn’t have much time left before. . .” He glanced at Mabel and didn’t finish.

June smiled. “The ancients created the magic. I imagine they wanted to ensure that the Symbols could escape and recover if they were struck by the dagger. Perhaps the spell works on a sort of time delay. For the majority of Mabel’s time up there, the magic drained her life a little bit at a time; but in the end, it was going to take what was left all at once and boost us through the dimensions.” She shrugged. “That’s just a theory. I’m very glad we didn’t have to find out.”

“Me too,” Mabel whispered.

“And life force regenerates? With sleep?” Gideon asked.

“It’s energy. Spiritual and physical energy, but mostly physical. Give the body time to build up its strength, and life force will regenerate with it. From what I know about humans, sleep is a good way to do that.”

Gideon and Mabel nodded. That sounded about right.

“Gideon,” said June, changing topics, “I’m glad you came to this section of the forest. Will you fly Andrew to the Museum? He can help you form the Cipher Wheel.”

Gideon didn’t like Andrew much — he thought it was partly Andrew’s fault that Mabel was stabbed with the dagger — but he couldn’t let his dislike get in the way of the Cipher Wheel. “Can he help Lincoln possess someone?” he asked. “I’m supposed to use my amulet to make it happen, but I’ve never exorcised someone from their own body before. Would he know more about that?”

“If anyone does, it’d probably be him,” June said. “So you’ll help?”

“Let me take Mabel first,” Gideon said. “I’ll come back for Andrew; it’ll be easier with only two people instead of three.”

“I don’t think you can carry Andrew on your back,” Mabel said with a smile.

Gideon smiled back; he was glad she was feeling good enough to joke around. “No, he’ll probably have to carry me on his,” he said. That’d be awkward, but probably not as awkward as carrying a girl who just told you not to kiss her.

Speaking of which. . . “Can you get on my back again?” he asked Mabel. “You almost passed out last time; I wouldn’t want you to fall.”

“I can hold on,” she said. June nodded in agreement.

Gideon gave Mabel his pack and bent down so she could climb on. “Will you come too, June? When Andrew comes?” Mabel asked as Gideon straightened.

“No, I’d lose connection with my tree if I crossed the rifts,” June said. “But the hamadryads in your section of the forest should be able to help.”

“I asked one called Ivy if she could chase the servants and Order members away from the Museum,” Gideon said. “I wonder if she did anything while I was gone.”

“If she didn’t, I’m sure she’s making plans,” June assured him. “Let’s see. . . your section of the forest should have hamadryads, gnomes, and perytons, to name a few. Gnomes are especially good at chasing people away.”

Gideon had only seen gnomes once, when a teenage Grace had fought them off with her amulet after they’d tried to abduct her and force her to be their queen. Maybe they’d try to take all the servants as queens.

The thought made him smile. “Well, thank you again, June,” he said.

“Thank you,” Mabel repeated. Her voice was quiet but fervent.

Gideon jumped into the air; Mabel hung onto him as they flew. Having her this close made him want to kiss her again. He knew she was tired, but maybe. . . well, they’d have to cross the Museum’s barrier spell from above. Maybe they could land on the roof, and maybe Mabel would say yes if Gideon asked to kiss her.

Now that the moon was white instead of dark blue, Gideon found it easier to see where he was going when he was flying. He still had to be careful, of course — he didn’t think the servants would try to shoot the Symbols, but he couldn’t count on that assumption. He flew high enough that he could barely see the Museum; then he dropped down to the roof, slowing before impact.

Mabel climbed off his back. “Thank you, Gideon,” she said. “Thanks for saving me.”

He shook his head. “You saved yourself. I just helped you get started.” He paused, glancing at the snowy roof below them. The angle of the roof was uncomfortably steep, but he kept his footing. “Mabel,” he said, forcing himself to look back up at her face, “can I kiss you?”

She seemed to be expecting the question, but not in a good way. Her eyes studied her feet. “No,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, Gideon, but I don’t. . . I don’t want to kiss anyone. I’m not ready for that.”

Gideon’s brain immediately fired up, claiming she was being selfish and mean for denying him. Gideon didn’t say anything for fear of letting those thoughts out of his mouth.

“I want to be your friend,” Mabel said. “I really do. I’m just not ready for romance. But — but hanging out, and hugs, if. . . if you still want them. . .” She trailed off.

“I’d love hugs,” Gideon said, forcing a smile. Scars or no scars, he liked Mabel’s hugs. “And. . . okay. I can just be friends.”

She gave him a shy smile. “It’s good to be friends. Right?”

“Right.” Of course it was good to be friends. But he wanted to be _more_. And she didn’t.

And he’d have to live with that.

But. . . “Mabel. . . do you know when you _will_ be ready?” he asked. It was a stupid question, but he wanted to know.

It took her a moment to answer. “No,” she said, “I don’t. But. . . how about this? In a few years, when I’m fifteen or sixteen, you can ask me again if you can kiss me.”

“And you’ll say yes?”

“I don’t know, but that’s when you can ask.” Her words sounded shy, maybe even a bit playful, but also serious. She was drawing a clear line in the sand, and she didn’t want Gideon to cross it.

He didn’t even know if he’d still know her in a few years. He certainly hoped he would, but. . . well, assuming the Cipher Wheel was successful, who knew what would happen when they got home and she went back with her parents? Still, this was her line. “Okay,” he said. It hurt, but he said it.

“Thanks,” she said. She gave him a hug. He hugged her back, almost mechanically.

“Can we go inside?” Mabel asked. “I want to see my family. And get some sleep.”

“Right. Of course.” He flew down from the Museum roof, and then lowered her to the ground. “Let’s go in.”

Suddenly, someone whooped in delight. Mabel jumped at the noise. She and Gideon turned around.

Outside the barrier stood a tall woman with dark skin and curly hair. Ivy! Nearby were a few perytons and other nymphs. They were cheering at the sight of Mabel and Gideon. Even the gnomes — stubby little creatures who resembled misshapen potatoes — made noise as they yelled and jumped up and down on the perytons’ backs.

Mabel grinned shyly and waved at them. “They came!” she said to Gideon.

“Yeah, they did,” he said. He couldn’t resist a smile of his own.

The door to the Museum flew open. The people inside had been drawn by the shouting. And at the front was—

“ _Dipper!_ ” cried Mabel. The twins ran to each other and gave each other such a tight hug that it was a wonder either of them could breathe.

“Mabel! You’re alive!” Dipper was crying. “You’re alive!”

Others — Melody, Ford, Fidds, the Corduroys, the Valentinos — came out to welcome Mabel home. Even Gideon felt tears of joy prick the corner of his eyes as he watched the reunion.

Or maybe they were tears of sadness. He wasn’t sure.

A wave of loneliness suddenly washed over him. Mabel had her family now. She didn’t need him.

“Mabel, you just missed it!” Dipper said. “The hamadryads came a few hours ago and chased away the servants and the Order members! They broke all their guns and sent them running! It was so cool! Oh, oh, and you’ve gotta meet my peryton friends! They’re out back!”

The way the twins were standing, it seemed they never intended to leave each other. But Mabel made sure to hug everyone — even Wendy Valentino and her brothers.

Gideon felt an irrational pang of jealousy as Mabel hugged the oldest Valentino boy. He wanted to go somewhere else. No need for him here; Mabel deserved to spend time with her family.

While the others were hugging and crying and laughing, Gideon silently slipped away.


	12. Chapter 12

Pacifica was almost asleep when the commotion started. It was late, and her evening had already been interrupted by the supernatural creatures coming to wreak havoc on the guards around the Museum. Pacifica had listened to the fighting, secretly rooting for the supernatural creatures and trying to deny it to herself. Lincoln had gone out to watch and had returned with a report: No one seemed badly hurt, and the supernatural creatures had won. They were the ones guarding the Museum now.

Pacifica had forced down a relieved smile.

Things were so confusing. It’d only gotten worse since Thursday, when Ford had talked to her about joining the Cipher Wheel. Shadow Pacifica stayed by Pacifica at all times, trying to convince her to change sides. Her tone and words had gotten considerably kinder, because Pacifica was actually listening to her now.

That scared her. She didn’t want to listen to Shadow Pacifica. But slowly, the shade’s logic started to make sense. Pacifica was a bad person, but there was hope for her if she joined the Cipher Wheel. If she helped save the town — the whole multiverse, even — she could get a second chance.

She hadn’t yet admitted to anyone that she was — probably — ready to join them. Her stubbornness still had a hold on her. But she had helped Lincoln by telling Ford and the others what he was saying. She’d acted as interpreter for conversations between Lincoln and Gregory Corduroy, who agreed yesterday to act as a vessel for Lincoln — if Gideon could help them. Lincoln had already tried possessing Greg on his own, but it hadn’t worked. Even though Greg was willing, his spirit had an understandably firm hold on his body.

The point was, even if Pacifica refused to form the Cipher Wheel, she was already helping with it in another way. Why not go all in? The end result of the Cipher Wheel — going back to earth, staying with Lincoln — was a lot better than the end result of Bill’s plan. Even if Pacifica didn’t think she would die at Bill’s command — and she could no longer deny that — she’d realized she didn’t really want to live in another dimension in the first place. Especially if it was anything like Fiddleford described.

As the sound outside grew, Pacifica rolled over and put her pillow over her head. Not again. It was almost midnight; couldn’t a girl get some sleep around here?

Waddles snuffled as Pacifica shifted. The pig had taken to sleeping on the air mattress with Pacifica. It was annoying — the air mattress deflated overnight with him there, given the added weight — but it was also. . . comforting. Pacifica had so far resisted patting him on the head or anything affectionate like that, but she’d given up trying to chase him away. So here he was.

“Hey, listen to that,” Shadow Pacifica said. She’d been quiet since the earlier battle, and Pacifica groaned at the sound of her voice. “No, Pacifica, really, listen. It sounds like cheering.” She gasped. “Is Mabel back?”

Pacifica sat bolt upright. Oh, no.

Lincoln floated through the wall, his spirit glowing softly in the darkness. “Mabel’s back,” he told Pacifica carefully. “And Gideon.”

Pacifica’s heart thumped in her chest. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

“You don’t have to go to her right away,” Shadow Pacifica assured her. “You can wait until tomorrow. But you’d better start thinking about how you’re going to apologize.”

Lincoln came closer to Pacifica. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He sounded confused, but he kept his voice mild.

“I—” How to explain to Lincoln? Did she want to?

“You can tell me,” Lincoln said.

If she could talk to anyone, it was Lincoln. She’d already told him about Shadow Pacifica and how she had masqueraded as Spirit Mabel. She’d told him some of the things Shadow Pacifica said: how Pacifica was a bad person, and how Mabel was never evil to begin with, and all that. Lincoln had listened and been kind to her.

“I don’t know,” Pacifica finally said. “I. . . I’m glad she’s back.” The words sounded strange coming from her mouth, but she pressed on. “I’m glad she’s not dead, because then it would’ve been my fault, and. . .” And she would’ve become a murderer. She shivered. “But — I can’t talk to her. I can’t—” Her voice cut off, and she didn’t continue.

“You can’t talk to her because you’re afraid she’ll hate you?” asked Lincoln.

Pacifica lay back down and buried her face in her pillow. “No,” she said, her voice muffled. Mabel absolutely deserved to hate her.

“Then what is it?”

She turned her head to look at him. He floated nearby, his ghostly face soft.

She took a deep breath. “I can’t talk to her, because what if I hurt her again?”

There. She said it. Pacifica had been terrible to Mabel and Dipper, and she didn’t deserve to talk to them. Not only because they didn’t want her around, but also because she was afraid she would hurt them. Afraid she would lose control of herself and start believing paranoid things again and hurt them.

“Oh,” Lincoln said.

Pacifica rolled over so her back was facing him. There were tears on her face again. She’d been so emotional the last few days.

Something nudged her arm. Waddles. He was trying to get under her arm so he could curl up beside her. She didn’t bother pushing him away; she lifted her arm and rested it on him as he settled by her chest.

“You don’t have to talk to her right away,” Lincoln said. “I don’t know when she’ll be ready to talk to you, either. It’s okay to give each other a little space.”

“You’re talking like we had a simple disagreement,” Pacifica muttered. “Not like I tried to kill her.”

“So maybe it’ll take longer,” he said. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll have to reconcile with her before activating the Cipher Wheel,” Shadow Pacifica said. “At least, it seems a lot easier if nobody hates each other. But for now, focus on helping Lincoln possess Greg, and give Mabel time to recover. She’s probably exhausted.”

True, Mabel probably was exhausted. She’d almost died, after all. Pacifica hated to listen to Shadow Pacifica, but she had to admit that her suggestion was sensible.

“I’m going to sleep,” Pacifica told Lincoln. “Good night.”

“Good night,” said Lincoln. He floated out of the room.

Sleeping sounded like a great idea, but Pacifica couldn’t do it. She lay in bed, listening to Waddles’ drowsy breaths. Her scattered thoughts bounced around her brain, and Shadow Pacifica spoke some of them aloud.

She’d almost murdered Mabel. She’d _wanted_ Mabel dead. It was a relief that she was back, that Pacifica hadn’t become a murderer, but — how could she ever face her again?

“Face her by joining the Cipher Wheel,” Shadow Pacifica said. “Let her see that you’ve changed.”

Pacifica wanted to. She hated that she wanted to, but she wanted to join the Cipher Wheel. She wanted to make things right with Mabel.

But it was too risky. Pacifica was just too dangerous.

Mabel would be better off if she never had to see Pacifica again.

~~~~~

Gideon sat alone in the gift shop, tucked between two shelves, hidden from view. He was really tired, and he’d seen on the clock that it was late; but he didn’t know where to sleep, now that there were — he counted — sixteen people staying at the Mystery Museum (although Lincoln, as a spirit, didn’t take up a bed).

Gideon’s head rested on his knees, and his mind played today’s mistakes over and over again in his head. He was such an idiot. Of course Mabel didn’t want romance. Dipper had told Gideon as much. Gideon had seen as much with his own eyes as he watched her in her fake world. But he’d ignored that.

Idiot.

He heard footsteps and voices as the others came back into the Museum. The clink of dishes and sound of pouring water told him that Mabel was probably having a late-night meal. Then the twins went up the stairs, and the Corduroys and Valentinos came through the gift shop to get to the Hall of Mysteries. Gideon heard Fidds’ voice in the group; Fidds must be staying in the Hall of Mysteries now, with Ford sleeping in his own bed.

The footsteps faded. Silence.

Then, “Where’s Gideon?”

Gideon started. That was his mother’s voice. In a flash, Gideon remembered that Geneva had come to the Museum with Ford and Dipper. He’d forgotten she was here. There weren’t sixteen people here — there were seventeen.

He should go to her. If he were at the Manor, where Gaston could see him, he would’ve jumped to his feet and answered her immediately. But he wasn’t at the Manor, and he was tired, so all he could manage was, “In here, Mother.”

The Employees Only door opened. “Gideon?” Geneva called again. She came into the gift shop and soon found him. “What are you doing in here?”

He stood up, considering his answer. He’d never really been close with his mother. That was Gaston’s fault more than Gideon’s own, but still, he felt a bit awkward around her. Could he confide in her?

Well, he decided, he could at least answer her question truthfully. “I’m hiding,” he admitted.

She looked at him empathetically, then opened her arms, offering for Gideon to come to her. He did. It felt both natural and unnatural, going to his mother for a hug. It was the second time he’d done it in a week, too, which was highly unusual.

Geneva was a good four inches shorter than he, so she rested her head on his shoulder as they hugged. “Welcome back,” she said. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. “Could you tell me what day it is?” He knew it was almost midnight, but he didn’t know on what day.

“Sunday,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in four days. I’ve missed you.”

He wanted to say the same thing, but he’d been so focused on helping Mabel that he’d honestly forgotten about Geneva. Shame arose in his chest.

Thankfully, Geneva didn’t seem to mind that he didn’t say anything. “Let’s go sit on the couch and talk,” she suggested.

She guided Gideon to the living room, where he spotted the suitcase that his butler, Marcus, had brought to the Museum two weeks ago. Had it really been so long? Seeing it reminded Gideon of how filthy he felt. He’d been in these clothes since Wednesday, after all. “Could I go change into pajamas?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He grabbed fresh clothes and his toothbrush and took them to the bathroom. He wished he could take a hot shower, but the Museum didn’t currently have running water. They had drinking water, thankfully; but since that couldn’t be spared for anything else, the best option for cleanliness right now was to wipe themselves down with baby wipes. Gideon was too tired for that, though, so he settled for changing into clean pajamas and brushing his teeth without water. Good enough.

Geneva was waiting for him on the couch when he came back. “Are you sleeping on the couch?” he asked. There was a blanket and pillow beside her.

“I was. But you can have it. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

It was a magnanimous offer. Gideon noticed Geneva’s eyes glance down at his chest and arms, as if she could see through his pajama shirt.

Right. That’s why she was offering.

“I showed Mabel,” Gideon said, sitting beside Geneva. His heart pounded, but he wanted to be able to talk about his scars. Especially with his own mother. He continued, “She saw my scars.”

Geneva was quiet. “I haven’t seen them since you were very young. Back when you would still. . . still come to me for comfort.”

He felt more shame at that. He _had_ gone to her when he was young. When Gaston first started hurting him and conditioning him to the sound of that terrible whistle. But before long, Gaston had forbidden Gideon to ask his mother for comfort. He’d said Geneva shouldn’t be bothered with Gideon’s problems. Gideon had stopped going to his mother and had gone exclusively to Grace after that.

“I’m sorry,” Geneva whispered. “I know I wasn’t much help. No wonder you stopped coming to me.”

Gideon’s eyes widened. “No — no, it wasn’t that. Father told me to stop.”

Geneva stared at Gideon for a moment. Then she closed her eyes. “Of course he did.”

Mother and son were quiet for a few minutes, sitting together on the couch. It helped, somehow, with the pain of being rejected earlier. Gideon still loved Mabel; he still wanted to be with her; but he remembered, sitting beside his mother, that there were more relationships than just romantic ones. Gideon should probably build strong family ties and good friendships before he tried for romance. He needed to get away from his abusive father, of course, and Grace was gone, but. . . his mother was here.

And he’d actually become friends with both Mabel and Dipper this winter. Mabel wanted to be his friend; she hadn’t _completely_ rejected him.

Even though they didn’t talk much, Gideon still felt better the longer he spent with Geneva. They hadn’t been able to sit together like this in years.

It wasn’t long before Gideon fell asleep in his mother’s arms.


	13. Chapter 13

Mabel woke up groggy. That was to be expected, since she was still recovering from her time in the so-called moon. June had prescribed rest and plenty of sleep. Mabel didn’t know how much opportunity she’d get to rest, since she and the other Symbols still needed to form the Cipher Wheel. But she’d try.

She shivered in the morning chill. She had gone to bed wearing multiple layers, but still, with the Museum’s heating system running at half-capacity, the building was far colder than usual. But at least the system was running at all. After the barrier around town had appeared, Ford had brought multiple portable generators and plenty of fuel from his bunker to the Museum. It was helpful to have an uncle who stock-piled supplies in preparation for the apocalypse.

Her orange hoodie was bloody from last week, and they didn’t really have a way to wash it. Mabel hoped they could save it; she loved that hoodie. But for now, she dressed in clean clothes and bundled up in a warm grey cardigan.

She had just finished getting ready when the door opened. “Good morning, Mabel,” said Dipper, keeping his voice quiet. Mabel could still hear the happiness therein. “How are you feeling?”

Mabel shrugged. “Still tired. But my hand doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Oh, good! Breakfast is ready if you want to come downstairs.”

“Awesome.” Mabel had eaten a meal late last night, but she was still starving.

“Oh, wait,” Dipper said, “I have something for you! One sec.” He went over to his side of the room and grabbed a blue and cream knit hat. “Ta-da! I knitted it for you! Fidds taught me how.”

He held it out to her, and Mabel took it. “It’s beautiful, Dip,” she said. She put the hat on; it would help warm her ears in this cold house. “Thanks.”

Dipper grinned and gave her a hug. She couldn’t imagine how scared he’d been while she’d been gone. But she was back. She was okay.

The twins came slowly down the stairs, with Dipper matching Mabel’s slow pace so he could help her walk if she needed it. She felt fine on her own, but she appreciated his closeness.

In the living room below, the three Valentino boys played a card game on the floor, and an unfamiliar woman sat on the couch, knitting a blanket. Mabel stopped halfway down the stairs and whispered, “Dipper, who is that?”

Dipper followed her gaze. “Oh, that’s Gideon’s mom. Good morning, Geneva,” he called.

Geneva looked up and smiled at the twins. “Good morning.”

When the twins got to the base of the stairs, Waddles came around the corner to meet them. “Morning, Waddles!” said Dipper, picking him up and squeezing him.

“Did he not sleep on your bed last night?” Mabel asked, realizing she hadn’t seen the pig until now.

Dipper shook his head. “He’s been spending a lot of time in the parlor. With. . .” He hesitated. “With Pacifica.”

Mabel’s heartbeat sped up. “She’s here?”

“Yeah. She’s a prisoner here. She’s been helping Lee, since she can see his spirit without an amulet. But I don’t know if. . . if she’s willing to help with the Cipher Wheel. I’ve been avoiding her.”

The Museum suddenly seemed three sizes too small. It was good to have all ten Symbols together, but — Pacifica? She’d — she’d tried to _murder_ Mabel!

“You said she was in the parlor?” Mabel said, resolving never to go there.

“That’s where she sleeps, yeah. She comes out to the kitchen to get food, but not with the rest of us. Melody can make sure you never run into her if you ask.”

Mabel tried to keep her breathing steady. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.” It would be okay, right? Dipper and Melody and Ford were all here to protect her.

Waddles made snuffling noises and squirmed in Dipper’s arms. Dipper put him down, and he immediately went to Mabel’s side. “Thanks, piggy,” Mabel said, crouching down and rubbing Waddles behind the ears.

“To breakfast?” said Dipper.

Mabel nodded. She and Dipper went in that direction.

Something in her periphery made Mabel stop. Someone was in the hallway. Heart pounding, Mabel turned.

It was Pacifica. She stood there with wide eyes. It seemed she had overheard the twins’ conversation about her.

The girls’ eyes locked. Then Dipper moved in front of Mabel to shield her. “What’re you looking at?” he snapped at Pacifica.

Mabel’s heart was pounding in her ears now. She stayed behind Dipper, not daring to move.

“Mabel, I—” Pacifica began.

“You don’t get to talk to her,” Dipper said.

“Dipper, wait,” Mabel said. Pacifica’s voice. . . it didn’t sound normal.

Mabel moved so she could see Pacifica. The sight of the other girl made the pounding in her head increase, but she tried not to look away. Pacifica looked scared, but not. . . not hostile. Mabel locked eyes with her again, and silence stretched over the next few seconds.

“I’m sorry,” Pacifica blurted.

Before Mabel could process her words, she turned and ran back down the hall.

Waddles left Mabel’s side and followed her, but Mabel hardly noticed. She stared at Pacifica, whose blonde hair streamed behind her as she ran.

. . . What?

Footsteps behind her revealed Melody, who had seen the whole thing from the kitchen. “Are you okay, Mabel?” the housekeeper asked. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you she was here.”

Mabel felt disoriented. Did Pacifica just apologize? Pacifica? _Apologize?_

Dipper led Mabel into the kitchen, where Melody served oatmeal and yogurt. Ford and Fidds were there, too. “Where’s Gideon?” Dipper asked.

“He and Geneva ate on the second shift with the Corduroys,” Melody said. “Then he left. He said he was bringing Andrew here.”

This got Ford’s attention. “Andrew? Oh, good. Maybe he’ll have the data we need.”

“Data?” asked Mabel.

Fidds nodded. “We’ve been trying to reprogram the portal to send people back to our dimension. But we don’t have the coordinates or anything like that. Maybe Andrew will know.”

“Maybe he’ll have my third Journal, too,” Ford said. “I think it got left at the minotaur village when Lee and I were kidnapped. But. . . well, even if he has the Journal and the information we need, we’d still have to get more fuel. We have about eighty-five gallons left over from last time, which leaves us two hundred and fifteen short. It’d be a major operation to bring more fuel here, given all the rifts between us and the UFO.”

“Right,” Fidds said. “The Cipher Wheel is still the main priority. But if it’s possible to have the portal as back-up, that would be helpful.”

The conversation faded after that, and Mabel silently ate her food. It seemed Ford and Fidds were getting along, which was good. She wanted to ask them about the Cipher Wheel — how close were they, really? — but she quickly got distracted thinking about Pacifica.

Had she really apologized? Had Mabel misheard? If she _had_ apologized, what exactly had she apologized for? Everything? She had made Mabel’s life miserable for most of her time here in Gravity Rises. Could “I’m sorry” ever make up for that?

It all felt so surreal. When Pacifica had stabbed Mabel with the dagger, it had happened in only a few minutes. Mabel had felt dread and fear while she waited in the Hall of Mysteries with Dipper and the others; then, that fear spiked into panic as Pacifica attacked; then, all feeling was gone. The next thing Mabel remembered was a beautiful summer day in her fake world.

And now she was back. And Pacifica was here. And they had to work together to form the Cipher Wheel.

Mabel had no idea if Pacifica was willing to join them. Plus, though she knew they had to have Pacifica’s help for the spell to work, she also shuddered at the thought of being so close to her attacker.

“Hey, Mabes,” Dipper said once they’d finished eating, “do you want to come meet the perytons now?”

That’s right, Dipper said last night that there were perytons here. Mabel smiled. Maybe they could take her mind off Pacifica. “Sure,” she said.

Dipper led Mabel out of the kitchen. “They’re in Ford’s lab, or outside,” he said. “We can get to the lab through the Hall of Mysteries so we don’t have to go near the parlor.”

He started walking to the Employees Only door. Mabel paused in the entryway, looking down the empty hall. Pacifica was down there somewhere.

“Mabes? You coming?”

Mabel took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

The twins went to find the perytons, avoiding Pacifica as best they could.

~~~~~

Lee followed Gideon when he left to go get Andrew. It’s not like he had anything else to do. He told Pacifica where he was going, then left, keeping pace with Gideon easily. The two of them — one a spirit, one using magic — flew through the air.

Could Andrew help? Could Lee possess Greg? Would the Cipher Wheel still accept him in someone else’s body? It was a topic Lee and Andrew had discussed when Lee was a prisoner in the minotaur village, but Andrew hadn’t thought it likely to work. The Cipher Wheel would only work if each Symbol was a soul. Both spirit and body. There was a chance that Lee could have a makeshift soul with his own spirit and someone else’s body, but Andrew wasn’t sure if that would count.

They soon reached the minotaur village. Andrew was happy to see Gideon. Gideon explained that the trip would be fastest if he climbed on Andrew’s back and levitated the minotaur while holding on himself. Or they could walk through the forest on foot, and Gideon could levitate Andrew and then himself over each rift.

“I’d prefer a faster trip,” Andrew said. “I can carry you.”

Andrew packed up, said goodbye to his family, and left his son Enoch with instructions to continue teaching magic to the others. Lee was glad to find out that the minotaurs were preparing for a fight. Hopefully a fight wouldn’t be necessary, but it was good to be prepared.

“All right,” Andrew said to Gideon, “let’s go.”

It was more than a little strange for Lee to see Gideon ride piggy-back on someone, but the boy climbed onto Andrew’s back without comment. His magic surrounded Andrew, and the minotaur lifted into the air. Just like that, they were on their way back to the Museum.

When they got there, Ivy and the other hamadryads greeted them. They told Andrew that they’d chased away the servants and Order members. “Do you know where they are now?” Andrew asked.

No one did. Well, Lee had a guess — he’d found the places they were staying when he’d explored the town last week — but he couldn’t communicate that at the moment.

“Someone should find out,” Andrew said, “so they can’t surprise us with an attack.”

Ivy sent out a few hamadryads and perytons to go search — the hamadryads in the trees, the perytons in the air. Lee silently wished them well, then followed Andrew and Gideon into the Museum.

The others were happy to see Andrew (except Geneva, who had never seen a minotaur before and was therefore more nervous than anything). Ford and Fidds immediately asked Andrew to help them with their portal project, and Andrew agreed. He gave Ford the third Journal, which had indeed been left in the minotaur village, then followed the scientists down to the basement. Lee wanted to follow them and see what happened, but he decided to go check on Pacifica instead. Melody and Fidds had been spending some time with her, but she was often alone, and Lee didn't want that for her. She needed better company than her cruel hallucination.

She was lying on the air mattress, Waddles by her side, the blanket pulled over her head. Unusual for mid-morning. “Pacifica?” Lee asked. “Are you okay?”

She moved the blanket so she could see him. “She saw me,” she said. “I said I was sorry. She just stared at me. At least she didn’t run away.” She closed her eyes. “I was the one who ran away.”

Lee knew she was talking about Mabel. “You did the right thing,” he said. “Apologizing, I mean.”

“Shadow Pacifica’s happy about it,” Pacifica muttered. She sounded both annoyed and relieved.

“Yeah? What is she saying?”

“That I still have a long way to go, but at least I took the first step to forgiveness. She says she wouldn’t be surprised if nobody forgave me, though.”

It seemed that even as Pacifica changed for the better, this hallucination of hers still reminded her of her self-loathing. “Well, I think she’s wrong about that last part,” Lee said. “I think people will forgive you.”

From the look Pacifica gave him, he didn’t think she believed him. Admittedly, Lee didn’t actually know if people _would_ forgive her. He hoped they would, though. Especially if Pacifica agreed to join the Cipher Wheel.

There was a knock on the door. Pacifica got to her feet and opened it, revealing Melody. “Will you come out to the living room?” Melody asked. “Andrew’s downstairs with Ford and Fidds, but Gideon wants to get all the Symbols together.”

Pacifica hesitated. “This is it, isn’t it?” she said. “Gideon’s going to help Lee possess Greg, and then we — you — will form the Cipher Wheel.”

Melody nodded. “This is it,” she confirmed. “Will you come?”

Pacifica looked between Lee, Melody, and another spot in the room where Lee guessed Shadow Pacifica was. “I. . . I don’t know.”

“Pacifica,” Lee said gently. “Look at me.”

She did, but she glanced away when, presumably, Shadow Pacifica said something.

“Ignore her,” Lee said. “Listen to me, okay? If I can, I’m going to possess Greg. But that’s only a temporary solution. I’ll only be in his body long enough to form the Cipher Wheel. And if it doesn’t work. . . well, that’s another issue. But the only way for me to get my body back, Pacifica, is if we defeat Bill. And once we do that — once I have my body back — I’ll be able to help you. I’ll be able to take care of you. But I can’t do that unless you help me and the other Symbols form the Cipher Wheel.”

Pacifica’s eyes were locked on his as he spoke. Longing and hope were visible in her eyes.

“Please, Pacifica. Say you’ll join the Cipher Wheel.”

Her eyes left his face and traveled around the room again. Melody, though she couldn’t hear Lee, waited patiently for Pacifica to say something.

Pacifica looked back at Lee. “You’ll take care of me?” she said. “You and — and Ford?”

Lee hadn’t thought about Ford. But he wanted to move into the Museum after this was all over, so it made sense that Pacifica had thought of Ford as a potential guardian as well. “I don’t know about him,” he said, “but I think he’ll be willing to help. We’ll take care of you as best we can.”

Pacifica glanced in Shadow Pacifica’s direction again. Lee wondered what the hallucination was saying. Hopefully positive, encouraging things.

It was a long minute before Pacifica said anything. Then—

“Okay,” she said. “I. . . I’ll do it. I’ll join the Cipher Wheel.”

~~~~~

Mabel and Dipper took their time going out to the living room. Mabel felt guilty; she didn’t want to delay the Cipher Wheel. But. . . Pacifica was out there. Melody had told them that when she’d come to get them.

Melody had also told Dipper not to be rude. Dipper had scowled when she said that, the dark expression out of place on his usually happy face. “It’s okay, Dipper,” Mabel said, her voice a tiny bit shaky. “If she really is sorry. . . I think it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t know if she believed that, though.

By the time the twins finally got out to the living room, it was full. The Symbols — Gideon, Ford, Fidds, Melody, Wendy, Robbie, and, yes, Pacifica — stood in the center of the room. Greg sat on the couch, looking extremely nervous, with Janice standing behind him. Geneva, Danny, and his three sons stood in the entryway, watching the Symbols. Andrew stood by the couch. Mabel assumed Lee was somewhere in here, as a spirit. That left only her and Dipper to join the other Symbols.

Grasping hands, the twins made their way to the other Symbols. Mabel briefly met Pacifica’s eyes, and both girls immediately looked away. Behind Pacifica, on the table in the back of the room, Mabel noticed the three Journals.

She looked around the room, trying to keep her gaze away from Pacifica. Robbie gave her a shaky smile, but his eyes were mostly on his dad, who, as Melody had told them, was about to get possessed by Grunkle Lee. If everything went well.

Gideon was deep in conversation with Andrew, but he spared a quick smile for Mabel when he saw her. Like Greg, Gideon looked rather nervous. Mabel didn’t blame him.

Once Ford saw that the twins were there, he cleared his throat. “I have an announcement to make. Sadly, we’re not going to be able to reprogram the portal.” He sounded disappointed but unsurprised.

“I don’t have the information they need,” Andrew said apologetically, “at least not in the numerical form they need it. The Cipher Wheel is our only hope. But we already knew that.”

People nodded. The Symbols’ backs straightened with tension.

For a moment, the room was silent. Even the youngest Valentino boy (who Mabel thought was about eight years old) made no sound.

“Well,” said Andrew, clasping his hands, “we’re all here. Let’s get started.”


	14. Chapter 14

Grace lay in bed in her hotel room, gazing at the thin bands of morning light that escaped the window’s heavy curtains. She didn’t want to get out of bed. Sleep had been little more than a fantasy last night, thanks to her pregnancy and her constant worry for Gideon.

What was the point, anyway? She could get up, meet with Sam and Camille Pines at the continental breakfast bar, and travel with them to the Gravity Rises crater. Then they’d sit there all day in the cold, doing nothing but staring at the dirt and hoping for a town to appear on top of it.

Alternatively, she could just stay in bed. She wasn’t ready to give up hope that Gravity Rises could come back, but she knew full well that nothing _she_ did would make it return. Spending all her time at the crater wouldn’t change anything.

With a moan, she pushed herself to a sitting position. She would go anyway. She couldn’t stay away. If there was any chance of the town returning. . . if there was a chance that Gideon would come back. . . then she had to be there to see it happen.

Besides, sitting around in a hotel room and sitting around by the crater were both the same amount of nothing.

Grace got up, showered, dressed in maternity clothes, and gathered her winter gear. Half an hour later, she was down at the breakfast bar, where Sam and Camille Pines were eating. They greeted her, and Sam got to his feet to offer her a hug. The man was a hugger, as Grace had quickly learned, but she didn’t mind. It was nice to have someone to hug, especially right now.

As she got her food, she thought about how much she missed Edward and _his_ hugs. It was Monday, the twenty-first of January; Grace had been in Oregon for a full week now. And for what? Grace had told the Pines everything she knew about the supernatural phenomena in Gravity Rises, and the couple had convinced her to talk to the scientists at the crater about interdimensional travel and other possibilities. But few people listened. And those who did had little to no idea how they could use the information to bring the town back.

Grace sat with the Pines and started eating. The hotel food wasn’t bad, but she was quickly getting tired of it. It wasn’t that different from the food in her first hotel, either. She missed home-cooked meals. She missed cutting food into tiny pieces for her sons’ small mouths. She missed dates with Edward where they cooked fancy dishes, not caring if the final products were delicious or disastrous.

At least Sam and Camille were here. Grace had switched hotels three days ago so she could stay in the same building they were in. It was helpful to be close with someone in your same situation — waiting for family to come home, hoping they weren’t dead, wondering if you’d ever see them again. Sam, Camille, and Grace stuck together, comforting each other as best they could.

There was someone else waiting for family, too: Dr. Eleanor Pleasure, widow of the late Percy Pleasure, the man who had been the leader of the Order when Grace was a baby. Eleanor had verified Grace’s story — indeed, being the wife of an Order leader, she had a _lot_ more information than Grace did — and helped spread the news to anyone who would listen. But outside the task of bringing Gravity Rises home, Eleanor had no interest in spending time with Grace, no interest in giving or receiving comfort. There was no time for that.

Grace admired Eleanor’s focus, but she couldn’t help but worry that it was misplaced. After all, they still hadn’t gotten any closer to finding Gravity Rises. Eleanor and Grace had even agreed that, if the town was going to come back, it’d probably have to come back on its own, through the intervention of the supernatural creatures or the Cipher Wheel. Grace didn’t know much about the Cipher Wheel, and it’d been twenty years since Eleanor had been in the Order, but the doctor remembered the Wheel as an important part of Cipher’s prison. Without it, the town might never come home.

Yet Eleanor still hovered over the scientists, giving suggestions and asking about their findings. She had more trust in their technology and scientific knowledge than Grace did. Maybe, just maybe, modern science could find the town and bring it back.

Grace didn’t have much faith in modern science, not compared to the magic in her hometown. But she appreciated Eleanor’s tenacity.

After they’d all finished breakfast, Grace and the Pines went to the Gravity Rises crater. They took the Pines’ car; Grace left her rental at the hotel. Camille drove, and Sam talked with Grace. “I was thinking last night,” he said, “about Stanley. Or, Lincoln, as you say he’s called now. Is there a chance he’s found Stanford in the six years you’ve been gone?”

Grace shrugged uncomfortably at the question. This topic made her feel extremely guilty. She had deceived her friend, Lincoln, for years. She hadn’t told him the truth about Stanford Pines.

Stanford was Lincoln’s brother. Grace had known that since she was a child, but she’d never mentioned it to Lincoln. Bill Cipher had forbidden it, threatening her with nightmares if she ever brought it up around him. Then, as a teenager, the threats had changed their focus from her to her brother. If she ever mentioned that Stanford was related to Lincoln, then Gideon would pay. Bill would be sure of it.

Even when Lincoln had told Grace that he had amnesia — even when she’d realized that he had no idea Stanford was his brother, and that Bill was keeping it a secret from him — even then, she hadn’t told him. She’d been too afraid for Gideon.

Bill had assured her that this was the safest course of action for everyone. But she still felt guilty. It may have been the safest thing, but it wasn’t the _right_ thing.

Grace had told Sam and Camille about all this a few days ago. They’d both been saddened — even horrified — by it, but they’d also been kind to her. “You did what you needed to do to keep yourself and your brother safe,” Sam had said. “I don’t blame you.”

Now, in the car, Grace forced herself to look into Sam’s eyes. “It’s possible,” she said. “It’s possible they found each other. Anything could’ve happened in six years.”

“But it’s unlikely?” Sam asked, picking up on her hesitant tone.

“I think it’s unlikely,” Grace admitted. “But when Gravity Rises comes back, after I find my brother and you find your children, then we can go together to find Lincoln. I’ll tell him about Stanford, about you, about your children. I’ll apologize for hiding things from him.”

Sam smiled. “I hope we get to do that,” he said.

Camille glanced at Grace in the rearview mirror. “What about your father?” she asked. “Didn’t you talk to that police officer about him?”

“Right,” said Grace. “When the town comes back, I’ll find my brother, and the police will arrest my father. And then we’ll find Lincoln.”

She felt a little thrill of — something. Excitement? Fear? Both? As a teenager, she’d dreamt of getting her father arrested. She didn’t try anything, because the Order of the Crescent Eye had such a hold over the town — but if the entire world knew about Gravity Rises and its magic, and if the cops were already there, ready to arrest Gaston. . . then it could happen.

It would finally happen. When Gravity Rises returned, Gaston would finally be stopped.

 _If_ Gravity Rises returns, whispered a small voice in Grace’s head. She did her best to ignore it.

After a while, Grace and the Pines arrived at their destination. Camille parked the car on the side of the road behind quite a few other cars, and they walked over five minutes to get to the crater. Near the crater was a cop car, and the officer inside nodded at Grace. His name was Officer Sanders, and he was a state trooper assigned to watch over the crater. He was the one Grace had talked to about arresting her father.

Grace waved back at him, feeling jealous that he got a nice heater in his car while she and the Pines were sitting out in the cold. She’d bought a bunch of handwarmers and scarves, but still. Eastern Oregon in winter was colder than she remembered.

Someone had placed park benches beside the crater. Grace didn’t like that; it made the place seem like a tourist spot. At the same time, though, she was grateful for the benches; it was nice to have a place to sit. She, Sam, and Camille sat on one of the benches and looked across the crater. There were multiple pop-up tents with scientists of multiple disciplines — geology, astronomy, multiple branches of physics, and so on — all trying to help in whatever way they could. There were also reporters running around with microphones and cameramen; they kept trying to talk to Grace, but Grace repeatedly declined their requests for an interview and left all the publicity to Eleanor. The doctor was better with that kind of thing.

Speaking of Eleanor, Grace could see her talking with scientists in the tent Grace thought belonged to quantum physicists. The physicists wouldn’t even be here if not for Eleanor and Grace and their claims that Gravity Rises was in another dimension, so they understandably were the most likely to listen to the two women. Grace didn’t know much about physics, and she didn’t know if Eleanor did either, but Eleanor still spent a lot of time under the physicists’ tents.

Grace was glad Eleanor was here. She was also glad that, despite being an Order member in the past, Eleanor was now fully invested in bringing Gravity Rises home. “I don’t care about Bill Cipher, not anymore,” she had told Grace a few days ago. “That was my husband’s work. But Percy is dead, and his grave is in Gravity Rises, along with my remaining family. I want them back.”

Now, as she buzzed around with energy that belied her almost seventy years of age, she gave Grace something to watch. Which was nice, because the empty crater was otherwise pretty boring.

“What are you thinking about?” Sam asked Grace.

She glanced at him and shrugged. “How glad I am that Eleanor is the one running around down there instead of me.”

Sam chuckled.

“Part of me feels like she’s wasting her time,” Camille said. “Didn’t she tell us the town would have to come back on its own?”

“She did,” Sam said, “but she seems to be someone who can’t sit still when there’s a problem to be solved.”

Camille glanced down. “ _We’re_ good at sitting still,” she said bitterly.

Sam didn’t say anything, just gave his wife a hug. Grace once again wished Edward could be here.

They were _all_ wasting their time, it seemed. Grace should be at home, taking care of her sons, spending time with her husband. But she was here. And she couldn’t bear to leave until Gideon came back. Or until she knew for sure that he wouldn’t.

She looked around, gazing at the trees, the sky, the bare dirt that lay where her hometown had once been.

Gideon, she thought, Lincoln, everyone — when are you coming home?

**END OF EPISODE FIVE**


End file.
